Not by blood, but by fire and water
by Finnarcher7
Summary: Jack and Mac get caught and the rest of the team has no idea where they are. With no chance of rescue the two agents have only each other to rely on. Very protective Jack, hurt Mac and Jack, some angst. My very first fanfic so be kind please.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay y'all, this is my very first fanfic, please be gentle. My wonderful beta Lifeart has taken the time to fix this chapter as the first three chapters were not beta'd originally.**

 **Sadly I do not own these characters and I am not profiting in any way. I hope you all enjoy!**

'Shit,' Jack thought as he tested his restraints and tried to figure out just how their current mission had gone to hell.

His partner sat next to him, his wrists and feet bound. Mac was taking an involuntary nap which had been caused by a burly man sucker punching the unsuspecting kid. Jack seethed thinking about it. How had this mission turned fubar so quickly?

Sure, occasionally one of them got caught to be interrogated or tortured - sometimes even purposefully - but never had both of them been caught and tortured for intel. How were they going to get out of this one?

No one knew where they were. They had been in another country when they had last checked in with Matty.

Jack was brought out of his thoughts as a new face walked in, and judging by his swagger and the way he commanded respect from his henchmen, he had to be the head honcho. The first words out of his mouth had Jack's stomach dropping, "You must be Jack. Tell me, did you enjoy your time in the sandbox? Being a former Delta, you must have been a real tough guy," he said smirking, "Well, we shall see about that."

The man stepped toward Mac and Jack felt his heart rate speed up. Keeping a calm front he prayed his best friend stay unconscious for a while longer. In his experience the bad guys tended to leave the unconscious alone since they couldn't get much intel from an unresponsive prisoner.

Grabbing a handful of the kid's blond hair, the man yanked his head back, exposing his neck. Jack's heart clenched, silently begging for Mac to be left alone. He had to get the attention back on himself. He couldn't bear to see any harm come to the kid.

"This must be MacGyver. By his reputation, I thought he would be older but it turns out he's nothing but a boy!" the guy laughed.

"Well, you know who we are," Jack grunted, "Mind telling me who the hell you are? If not, I can always just call you an asshole."

It worked and the guy let go of Mac's hair, but only to step over to Jack and deliver a brutal backhand that split the former Delta's lip. Jack didn't even feel it, he was just happy the psycho wasn't focused on his partner anymore. He feigned more pain than he felt as he watched their captor's face carefully. His suspicions were confirmed when he saw a gleam of pleasure light up in his eyes. Awesome, their captor enjoyed causing pain to others.

Jack had dealt with guys like that before and he came up with a simple plan just then. He would keep all attention on himself and taking every bit of the abuse coming their way to keep Mac and his big and beautiful brain safe so he could get them out of the mess.

"You may call me Mr. Sinclair," the man offered Jack a creepy smile. "I assume you're wondering why you and your associate are here, am I correct in assuming such?"

"The thought has crossed my mind." Jack spared a quick glance at the kid he loved like a brother while Sinclair's back was to him. Mac's head was still slumped down with his chin resting on his chest. Blood had trickled down his neck into the collar of his shirt from the wound near the back of his head. Fortunately the wound wasn't actively bleeding anymore. Looking back to face Sinclair, Jack made the final decision to go through with his plan. "If this is some kind of way to ask me out on a date, you need to step up your came, dude," he quipped.

Sinclair ignored the comment and pushed himself into Jack's personal space, his face coming within inches of the agent's. "You're here, Mr. Dalton, because you took something that doesn't belong to you. You're going to tell me where it is," he said menacingly.

Seeing an opportunity, Jack thrust his forehead into the bridge of Sinclair's nose as hard as he could. Hearing a crunch, Jack smiled. Blood poured from the man's nose. His hired muscle converged on the former Delta operator and started trading punches to his face and body. After several minutes Sinclair managed to compose himself and slow down the bleeding. He called off his guys, motioning for them to step back.

Jack's eye burned from blood running into it from a gash at his left brow. He smirked at Sinclair, "Man, sorry about that. I should have told you, I have a thing about people invading my personal space." Sinclair pulled something out of his pocket and slipped it on his right hand. 'Aww, that's cheating,' Jack thought when he saw the shiny brass knuckles coming toward his middle.

Pain blossomed in his stomach as all the air was forced out of his lungs. Suddenly there was a knife at his side, pushing painfully through his shirt and breaching the surface of his skin.

"You will suffer for that, Mr. Dalton!" Sinclair said with a maniacal look in his eyes. He pulled the knife across Jack's ribs, eliciting a pained grunt from the man.

Looking up, Jack saw the brass knuckles coming toward him again, this time toward his face. The impact shot a spurt of Jack's blood on to the dingy wall next to him.

Effectively knocked out, his chin came to rest on his chest as his blood slowly dripped from it.


	2. Chapter 2

**I am blown away by the reviews I got! You guys have all been so nice and welcoming. I don't really know what I was expecting when I published the first chapter, but I certainly didn't imagine that I would receive such good feedback. Anyway thank you to all that reviewed, favorited, followed me. It really meant the world to me! I hope you all continue to enjoy this story.**

Jack was running, desperately trying to find Mac.

How could he have lost his partner?

It was his job to keep him safe. Actually it had become more than a job, he needed to keep him safe.

It would kill him if anything happened to the kid, especially on his watch!

Growing more and more panicked the longer he ran, he tried calling out to his friend, "Mac!"

He stopped to listen, desperately trying to hear something. He waited… then faintly he heard something.

He began running in the direction the sound had came from, faster this time. "Jack!" he clearly heard his partner calling for him this time.

With the relief of hearing his friend also came worry, he could tell something was wrong.

Praying that the kid would be okay when he found him, he ran faster.

Mac jolted awake.

His head was pounding and his vision a bit fuzzy, he tried to take in his surroundings; wrists and ankles bound, small cold concrete room, and-... "Jack!"

"Jack," he called again. Seeing his friend brought back the last moments he remembered before his involuntary nap.

They had just completed their mission, stealing an incriminating hard drive from a very slippery and connected arms dealer. The two agents had last contacted Matty while they were in Jordan.

They had tracked the arms dealer's right hand man to Turkey, and with the help of Jack's right hook they had easily procured the hard drive.

He and Jack had just arrived at the airport and had been heading into a hangar that housed private planes. He had been bantering with his partner, "All I'm saying is, I don't think it was absolutely necessary to knock the guy out, that's all."

"Really? That guy works for some psycho that supplies weapons to ISIS! He had it coming," Jack replied, Mumbling something about a "punchface" a moment later.

Jack had been leading the way and being followed closely by Mac, who had been studying his boots as they walked and his mind wandered.

He had looked up in time to see a steel pipe connect with the back of his friend's skull.

"Jack!" Mac had shouted as his partner had crumpled to the cement floor.

His attention had still been on his partner and the with assailant standing above him, he had seen Jack shake his head to clear his vision and search him out.

The last thing Mac remembered was Jack's eyes widening and a shout forming on his lips. Sensing someone behind him, he had turned right into the path of a fist coming his way.

"Jack, please wake up," Mac pleaded. His friend looked like he'd been used as a punching bag with the bruises he could see starting to form.

Mac cringed at the blood splatter on the wall next to Jack's head.

There was a gash above Jack's left eye that had bled all the way down the side of his face, and neck. His left cheek was swollen and split along with his lip. Blood had dried grotesquely on his chin. Mac hoped there weren't more injuries he couldn't see.

"Jack," he tried again. He was rewarded by a moan from his friend.

Jack's eyes slowly fluttered open to reveal soft unfocused chocolate brown eyes.

Pain, that's the first thing Jack felt when he returned to consciousness.

He tried to raise his hand to his face, feeling the restraints, memories of their current situation came flooding back

His head snapped up to meet the younger man's gaze. "Hey man, it sure is good to see you! How are you feelin' buddy?" Jack asked, relieved to see his partner still mostly okay.

"I was just about to ask you the same thing. You look like you went ten rounds with Muhammad Ali," Mac shook his head fondly at Jack.

"So I clearly missed a few things while I was knocked out, care to fill me in?" Mac said.

Jack proceeded to tell Mac everything that had happened - everything he could recall that is - during the past few hours. When he finished, he could see the wheel's in Mac's head start to turn.

"Who's this mysterious Mr. Sinclair and what does he think we stole from him?" Mac questioned.

"He has to be the arms dealer, that's the only option that makes sense," Jack concluded. "Let's worry about all that after we get out of here, bud," he requested. Mac nodded in agreement.

"Got any idea how we can get out of here yet?" Jack asked.

Looking around his surroundings, Mac replied, "There's not much to work with in here."

Jack had faith in the kid and he knew Mac would get them out of this mess when the opportunity presented itself.

After some time passed, he heard movement behind the large metal door. His body tensing and his muscles bunching, he wasn't quite ready for another round with that psycho. Jack looked at his friend nervously, he couldn't let anything happen to him.

Facing the door again, Jack steeled himself for what was about to happen.

The heavy door creaked open…


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you to all the reviewers! You guys have been so nice and welcoming! The awesome Lifeart has offered to beta this story for me and I'm forever grateful because I'm not so good with the punctuation. Thank you to those that favorited and followed also. I own nothing and all remaining mistakes are mine.**

In strode Mr. Sinclair followed by his two muscle bound meatheads.

"Oh wonderful you are both awake! Mr. Macgyver, it is a pleasure to finally get to meet you! I've heard so much about you."

"How is that exactly?" Mac said, genuinely curious.

Pausing to think it over for a moment. "I guess it won't do any harm to tell you. I have a very expensive informant at your so called secret agency, the Phoenix Foundation. I know for a fact that the Director - Miss Matilda Weber - has no idea where you are.

It seems like you failed to inform her about your whereabouts after following my associate to Turkey.

No one is coming to rescue you. You really should check in more frequently to avoid such predicaments that you find yourselves in now." He said with a smirk.

Sinclair leaned down to Mac's level to stare him in the eyes. "Now I can take my time with you two, without the possibility of uninvited guests."

Jack didn't like how the psycho was so hyper focused on Mac. "Hey, do you smell that?" he asked, raising his nose and sniffing. Sinclair's head snapped over to Jack when he started speaking.

"Oh my bad, dude, I forgot about that," indicating their captor's broken nose with a nod, "You probably can't smell anything, huh? Man, that looks like it smarts!" Jack taunted, wrinkling his nose in mock sympathy.

Jack had never seen someone's face turn so red before. This guy wouldn't fare too well in a game of poker, his emotions displayed clearly across his face.

"It's very rude to interrupt, Mr. Dalton." Sinclair said through his teeth, stepping over towards Jack.

"You're one to talk about manners," looking down at his tightly zip tied wrists then back to face their captor, "I'm pretty sure what you're doing here is not proper etiquette." Jack's chuckle was cut short with a hard hit below his left eye, opening the split on his cheek further and causing it to ooze blood again.

Jack saw his partner pulling hard against the zip ties at his wrists, the hard plastic digging into the tender flesh.

Mac looked over at his friend just as Sinclair delivered another punch to Jack's face, this time on the right side.

The agents locked eyes, Jack gave a small shake to his head silently pleading with his friend not to do anything stupid, as he took another hit to his midsection.

Jack could tell by the look Mac gave him, that he knew what Jack was doing, and he didn't like it one bit.

Sinclair stepped back, breathing heavily and motioning for goon #1 to continue in his place. He smiled as he heard the thuds of fists hitting his prisoner and the pained grunts that followed them. "Thank you Alex, that's enough for now. Let's see if he's ready to give us any useful information now."

Sinclair sauntered toward Jack. In his hand was a double edged tactical dagger that had a very sharp steel blade and titanium finish with a stainless steel pommel and a handguard. Sinclair twisted the knife around with one finger on the sharp tip. It was a fine weapon and Jack was looking forward to shoving it into the man's throat.

"Now, can you tell me where you hid my hard drive?"

Jack didn't respond, instead he just sat there and glared up at his captor. "Have it your way then," Sinclair said then pushed the knife onto Jack's skin and drug it slowly across the agent's chest which elicited a pained growl from the former Delta. Sinclair moved the knife to Jack's shoulder, preparing to make another slice.

"Alright, alright, you win," Jack forced out.

"Tell me," Sinclair said smugly.

Jack looked up into the face of his captor, breaking out into one of his disarming grins, even though it was slightly marred by the blood on his teeth. "In your ass," he spat.

Sinclair's eyes flashed and this time he used the tip of the blade on Jack's shoulder instead of the edge. He added pressure slowly to inflict the most pain. Jack couldn't hold back a scream this time. It seemed like he could feel the blade cutting through every fiber of muscle it contacted. His vision started to darken at the edges. "Jack!" he heard Mac's shout.

'Don't pass out! You can't pass out! He'll hurt the kid!' Jack repeated silently to himself.

Sinclair buried the knife all the way to the handguard. Jack's parted lips and cheek muscles quivering from the onslaught of pain. Taking in Jack's obvious pain, Sinclair's eyes gleamed with pleasure at the anguish Jack couldn't hide.

"That's enough!" Mac yelled, shaking with anger after watching his friend suffer at the hands of the twisted arms dealer.

'No, no, no, no', Jack silently uttered the mantra in his head.

Sinclair yanked the knife from Jack's shoulder, causing another moan to escape his lips. "Feeling left out, are we?" Sinclair smirked, stepping over to Mac and waving the knife - that had just been in his friends shoulder - in front of his face. Sinclair settled the blade on Macs cheek. Jack's blood dripped from the knife onto his shirt. His Jack's blood.

Looking sideways towards his partner he saw Jack pulling hard against the zip ties that bound his wrists. Blood leaked steadily out of the fresh shoulder wound. He didn't seem to notice because he never took his eyes off Mac. It hit Mac hard then, the selflessness of his friend and how Jack would do anything to protect him, making his heart clench.

He would not let his friend die for him. Jack was more than just his partner and friend, he was the brother/father that he didn't realize he had needed. Jack had filled the hole that his real father had made when he had abandoned him. Mac was brought out of his reverie by the arms dealer's question.

"Can you be more helpful than your associate over there?" Sinclair asked.

"Probably not," Mac said stubbornly. With that, the arms dealer drew the blade across his cheek viciously.

Jack was trying desperately to hide his emotions, knowing full well they would hurt the kid more to get him to talk, if they found out that Mac was his weakness.

"Well then, maybe my friends here," Sinclair motioned to the two men behind him, "will help to loosen your tongues while I'm gone. Don't worry I won't be long. Alex, Levi, these boys need more persuasion apparently." He shut the door behind him with a clank.

The large barrel chested men walked over to the prisoners, both men sharing the same smug expression. They flexed their fists. The men started in on the agents at the same time with hits to the abdomen.

Both of the agents making twin "oof" sounds when the goons knocked the breath out of them. They shared a quick glance at each other's expressions, conveying just how much this sucked.

Mac felt a rib give and couldn't hold back the yelp of pain. Jack's head snapped over to his partner, concern etched on his face. He then looked at the man pummeling his friend, concern replaced by murderous rage.

'Oh I'm gonna kill you!' Jack screamed at Mac's attacker in his head. This was his worst nightmare, all he could hear was his brother's pained grunts and moans and he couldn't do a damn thing about it. Jack's vision greyed again after a particularly hard hit to his jaw.

The agents got a reprieve when the door creaked open, signaling the return of Sinclair. The relief was short lived, however, when they saw what he had with him.

"Shit," Jack muttered under his breath.

To be continued...


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you to all that have reviewed! I'm still blown away by how nice you all have been and how much you like the story so far. Thank you to Lifeart for being my beta for this story, you are amazing! All remaining mistakes are mine. Here we go…

"Shit," Jack muttered under his breath. He and Mac glanced at each other and shared a look of dread, this was really going to suck.

Sinclair pushed a rolling metal table into the room. The table contained numerous devices of torture, among those items, Jack saw one particular device that made him sick to his stomach. A picana.

The picana was essentially a cattle prod powered by your average car battery. It delivered a very painful non-lethal shock and was made specifically to inflict pain on its victims in order to extract information. Jack hated electric shocks.

His hatred and fear stemming from an incident on his uncle's ranch in northern New Mexico when he was a kid. (Snow had drifted over an electric fence and young Jack had straddled the fence. The snow had acted as a conductor and shocked little Jack in a very sensitive area. His uncle had found the whole thing quite humorous, Jack, however, had not.)

Alex roughly pulled a rag over Jack's face, covering his eyes, mouth, and nose, tying it tightly behind the former Deltas head.

Water boarding isn't the worst kind of torture Jack could imagine, in fact he held a record, set during an interrogation training exercise at "The Farm" for holding his breath for three minutes and fifty seven seconds, but it isn't just about holding your breath. When it came to waterboarding, the trick was to slow your heart rate, slowly pull in air whenever you could, and don't panic. It is easier said than done.

Jack felt hands on his shoulders suddenly shoving him backwards, his metal framed chair slamming against the concrete floor. Jack flexed his neck to keep his head from bouncing off the concrete. He took a few deep breaths to calm his rapid heart rate. Focusing on his breathing, he felt the beats begin to slow.

Ice cold water splashed on his chest, quickly drawing in a breath before the water saturated the rag on his face and made it nearly impossible to breathe. The frigid water felt like hundreds of needles were sticking in his skin, and the shock of the icy water made his heart rate increase. He had to concentrate to get it under control again. Blocking out the sensation of the water trying to force its way up his nostrils, Jack pictured him and Mac relaxing by the fire pit, feet kicked up, and drinking a beer after another successful mission.

Jack gripped the ends of the wooden armrests that were bolted to the chair. He was going to need a breath soon. He jerked his head to the side, trying to suck in air even if it was just a little. The soaked rag over his face made it nearly impossible to get any air without water coming in with it. He sucked in a partial breath greedily while spitting out the water that got in.

"Jack!" He heard his partner calling for him with worry thick in his tone. His heart was pounding in his ears and getting louder. The water, coming in a steady stream from the hose, unrelenting in its assault. Jack tossed his head from side to side trying to escape the stream long enough to pull in more life sustaining air.

"Jack," Mac called, watching helplessly as his partner fought for air, worry for his friend and anger towards their captor growing by the second. He looked at the asshole, who was torturing his best friend. Mac wanted to kill him when he saw the twisted grin and gleam in Sinclair's eyes. Hearing Jack choke, Mac jerked his focus back to his partner. "Jack!" He called out desperately. Jack continued to cough and suck in more water.

Mac unconsciously pulled at his restraints. If he told Sinclair where the hard drive was, the man would have no reason to keep them alive. Mac's brain worked in overdrive, desperately trying to figure out how to help his friend.

Jack's lungs were burning, his brain starting to get fuzzy. His chest was expanding, trying to pull in air, and his head was thrashing from side to side trying to escape the water long enough to get a breath. His need for air overriding his brain, Jack opened his mouth to pull in the much needed oxygen, immediately choking when all he got was water. He tried to force out the water with the small amount of air that was still left in his lungs by flexing his diaphragm for all it was worth. He inhaled again, getting in some much needed air but with more water that he had hoped for. More coughing followed.

"Enough Sinclair, I'll talk," Mac said resolutely.

Distantly Jack heard his friend say something, but the pounding in his ears prevented him from hearing what it was. The light Jack could see through the rag was starting to dim. He fought hard to keep the oblivion at bay and pulled in another breath, this time getting mostly just air. Sputtering and coughing again he noticed distantly that the water had stopped. The rag was yanked from his face. Jack squinted at the brighter light, his chest heaving, trying to pull in more blessed air. Coughing up the last of the water he took in, Alex and Levi grabbed the back of Jack's chair and lifted him upright.

Mac looked at his partner. The water had washed most of the dried blood away, making the bruises and gashes on his face stand out in contrast to Jack's pale skin. "Thanks for the bath, I needed that," Jack said hoarsely, still managing a smirk.

Sinclair walked over to stand in front of Mac. "Okay Mr. MacGyver, you were saying?"

Jack looked over to his friend, confusion written on his face. He had clearly missed something while he was fighting for air a moment ago.

Mac glanced over at Jack, his eyes trying to tell Jack that he was sorry. He looked back at his captor, "I'll tell you where it is, if you let Jack go."

To be continued...


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed! Each one has brought a smile to my face and urged me to continue. I see now why authors appreciate them so much. They really do make your day. Also I'm sorry I haven't been updating as frequently. I probably shouldn't have tried to start my first story during my two busiest months out of the year. I co-own a haunted house, so i'm very busy prepping for opening night, in three weeks yikes! Hindsight blah blah blah.**

 **Thank you to the wonderful lifeart for beta-ing this for me!**

Speechless, Jack stared at his friend, mouth open in disbelief, his heart in his throat. He felt betrayed. How could Mac do this to him? They would have to kill him and drag his body out. He would never willingly leave his partner. Mac had to know that, didn't he?

Refusing to look at his friend, knowing what he would find if he did, Mac just glared at the lunatic in front of him.

"How fascinating!" Sinclair declared, "You care about your partner so much that you would trade your life for his. Oh my, this _is_ interesting!" Sinclair stated, practically salivating.

Mac glanced towards his friend, the expression Jack wore, exactly what he thought it was going to be, hurt. His heart clenched for causing the hurt he saw on his friends face. He knew his selfless act was also a bit selfish at the same time because Jack had made it clear to him, on many occasions and tight scrapes over the years, how much he cared about him by putting Mac's safety and life ahead of his own. He knew the older man would have a hard time with this, but it would kill Mac if he lost Jack.

"I cannot let either of you go, I'm afraid. You see, I've worked too hard to keep my anonymity over the years, also I haven't had this much fun in a long time!" Their captor said, smiling evilly.

Relief flooded through Jack at their captors words. They weren't going to take him away from his brother. That's all that mattered to him.

"I can promise that I will make your deaths quick once I receive the information I desire. Everyone talks eventually, I have a perfect record." Sinclair bragged.

"Now that I know where your soft spot is, Mr. MacGyver, are you ready to end all this needless suffering?" Mac, casting his eyes at the floor, shook his head no. "I wonder how long you will let your friend suffer? Hmm, we shall see, I suppose." Sinclair sauntering over to the table.

The agents looked at each other, while their captor stood at the table, running his hand over the devices laid there. Mac's expression was apologetic, how had this backfired so horribly? Jack shook his head as he mouthed "Not your fault kid."

Mac knew Jack didn't blame him, but he felt guilty. His plan showed them his weakness and now they were going to hurt Jack more because of him. Mentally kicking himself, he looked towards the table and Sinclair. Their captor was seemingly having a difficult time deciding on what mode of torture he wanted to use next.

Feeling his partners gaze, Mac turned to face him again. Mac had seen this look from Jack many times, it was his 'I'm worried about you man, you ok?' face. Mac shook his head exasperatedly, only Jack would be worried about him when he as the one about to be tortured with Lord knows what.

Sinclair strode over knife in hand once more. "Mr. Dalton, do you have anything you would like to say before we get back to it?"

"Yeah I got somethin'" Jack replied, flashing a smile, "fuck you!"

As Sinclair landed a punch below his left eye, he felt blood start seeping out and running down his face again. He felt the cold steel of the blade slide up under his chin, which forced him to raise his line of sight to that of their captor. "I'm really going to enjoy this, Mr. Dalton," Sinclair said in a low menacing voice. Smiling as he slit open Jacks chin.

"Remove this ones shirt," he tossed the order over his shoulder to his goons.

Alex came forward, pulling out a pocket knife and began cutting off what was left of Jacks black t-shirt.

"You could've at least bought me dinner first," Jack snarked which earned him another fist to his midsection which forced out his breath with a pained oof. The last of Jack's shirt came away revealing one gash across his chest and one along his ribs on the right side and an impressive number of bruises in varying shades of purple and blue.

Sinclair made his way back over, knife still in hand. He slid it over Jack's abdomen, coming to a stop at the area just above his hip bone. Jack unconsciously held his breath. Sinclair glanced over to Mac, and after he was certain that the younger man was watching, he started pushing the knife into Jacks flesh.

The former Delta futilely tried to pull his hands free to stop the assault. He was unable to stop the raspy cry escaping his lips.

With the knife buried to the hilt Sinclair asked again, "where is my hard drive?"

"Go fuck yourself!" Jack spat, chest heaving. Sinclair grabbed the knife and started twisting it. Jack screamed, it felt like his insides were being shredded.

This was Mac's worst nightmare, being helpless to save his loved ones. Just like he was helpless to save his mom. His friend's scream was twisting his stomach into knots and breaking his heart.

Sinclair let go of the knife, looking pleased with his work. Jack's breath was coming in short gasps. Sinclair reached down with one hand to grip Jack's forearm and used the other hand to do the same to his other arm before leaning in close to the agent's face and talking at a whisper, "Have you had enough Mr.- ahhhh!" Sinclair screamed, having received another head butt to the bridge of his nose. "You son of a bitch! You are a dead man!" Their captor bellowed.

"I thought I warned you about staying out of my bubble, you don't catch on too quick, dude," Jack quipped. Looking towards his goons, "Surely next time he nose not to do that." Jack said flashing his brilliant smile at Mac, who chuckled.

The enraged Sinclair pounced on Jack, knocking the heavy chair backwards, with his knee on the agents chest he whaled on Jack until exhaustion took over. Turning to Alex and Levi, Sinclair shouted, breathing heavily, "Why are you just standing there! Do your job!" The goons looked at each other briefly, then walked over to their prisoners.

Rolling his head to the side to look at his partner, Jack saw him take a hit to his face. He tried to say no, but all that came out was a moan. Alex lifted Jack's chair upright and, not wasting any time, he delivered a punch to the agent's gut then another to his temple. The hit had Jack's vision greying at the edges. The darkness was a promising sanctuary. He still refused to willingly let go, his partner needed him.

A particularly hard hit to Mac's jaw had him spitting blood.

Jack, blinking hard to try and clear his fuzzy vision, took another hit to his temple, which proved to be too much for his thick skull. He succumbed to the darkness.

"Jack!" Mac called worriedly, seeing his friends chin drop to his chest. His partner didn't budge. Anger bubbled up in Mac. He couldn't hold back the pained shout when Levi hit too close to his broken rib.

He watched as Sinclair walked up to his unconscious friend and yanked out the knife that he had left in Jack. Sinclair said something to Alex that he couldn't make out and stormed out of the room, slamming the knife back onto the table as he left.

An idea came to Mac, but he was going to have to be conscious to test it out. The next hit landed just under his eye. He closed his eyes and let his head fall, praying his acting was believable.

The two henchman looked at each other, "Is it just me or are these guys heads extra hard?" Levi asked, rubbing his knuckles as they left.

To be continued...


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you to all the reviewers, favorites, and follows. Thank you to my wonderful beta who makes me consider a refresher course in English and punctuation. English isn't even her first language y'all, she's amazing! Any remaining mistakes are mine.**

"Jack… Jack please wake up", Mac pleaded. Worry for his partner was increasing with every unresponsive second.

Mac threw his body weight to the side closest to his partner. The chair scraped on the concrete as it inched closer to his friend. Mac's broken rib was protesting with every inch he gained. Finally he was close enough to touch Jack's hand.

He felt the reassuring, strong, and steady thrum of his friend's pulse. Furrowing his brow he also felt heat radiating from the older man. Jack felt unnaturally hot in the cool cement room. "Dammit!" Mac exclaimed, finding the culprit. The knife wound at Jacks shoulder was red and angry looking with yellow fluid draining from it. His skin was showing an unhealthy pallor in contrast to his usual tanned complexion.

He had to get Jack out of there and fast. If he couldn't, sepsis could kill Jack before Sinclair had the chance. Mac made up his mind then, he couldn't afford to wait a moment longer. Resolute in his goal, he commenced on the long and arduous journey across the room. Sweat began to bead on his brow with the exertion. He looked back to Jack to gauge his progress. Damn he had only made a couple feet, he still had eight to go.

Throwing his body weight forward and up, he inched closer to his goal. Leaning forward to replicate the move, he heard a moan behind him. Mac jerked his head towards his partner, "M-Mac," Jack moaned.

"Jack…," relief flooded his tone. "Hey big guy, ya with me?" Jack's soft brown eyes fluttered open slowly as he raised his head with another pained moan.

The last few moments before Alex had turned out the lights replayed in Jack's mind just before he returned to consciousness: Mac taking a beating while Jack was powerless to stop the attack. Mac taking a vicious hit to the face and spitting blood.

"M-Mac," With awareness came the pain, he hurt everywhere. Raising his head elicited a pained moan. He pried his eyes open, searching out Mac. He found his friend in front of him, relieved to see him mostly intact. "Hey, brother. What did I miss?" He asked furrowing his brow in confusion.

"Not much really. If I can reach the knife from the table over there, I might be able to cut these restraints." Mac said, resuming his slow trek across the room. "How are you feeling by the way?"

"Peachy." Jack replied. Mac stopped to look back at his partner. His expression conveying just how Mac felt about his answer. "I'll be better when we both get out of here." Jack conceded. Accepting his partner's answer as the best he was going to get under the circumstances, Mac faced forward and got back to work.

"About the deal you made earlier, bud, I need you to know that I will never leave you behind, never.

Mac stopped, hanging his head briefly before turning to look at his friend again.

His partner's soft brown eyes were glistening with unshed tears. "Protecting you is more than just my job, kid. I'd never forgive myself if anything…" his voice broke on the last word, one tear escaping and streaking down his face. "I can't lose you Mac."

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Mac stated, "I can't lose you either Jack. Why do you think I tried to make the deal in the first place? You may think you have the market cornered in that department, but you don't." A fresh wave of guilt came crashing into him at the mention of the deal. "It's all my fault," Mac continued, lowering his head and shaking it side to side.

"That's bullshit Mac! Don't you dare blame any of this on yourself! None of this is your fault! If you want to blame someone blame me. I'm the one who let my guard down which allowed us to be taken in the first place."

"Jack, none of this is your fault either. Okay?" Jack nodded, but wasn't convinced.

"Hey, how long do you think we've been here?" Jack asked, changing the subject.

Resuming his trip across the room Mac answered, "Maybe two days." ' _The worst two days ever_ ,' Mac thought to himself.

They had been through some tough scrapes before, but nothing like this. "I think this mission officially passes Cairo as the suckiest." Jack stated. Mac nodded his head in agreement.

They had been in the city of Batman, Turkey, when they had gotten ambushed. The city had been named after a nearby river, not the superhero.

Mac looked back at his partner at the sound of his friends chuckle, "What are you laughing about?" he asked perplexed.

"I was just thinking if now, instead of Cairo, we would say, 'We don't talk about Batman'." Jack said, flashing his trademark smile. Mac couldn't stop the giggle that bubbled out of him. Only Jack could make him laugh in a situation like this.

Mac was nearly there, just a couple more feet to go. Once at the table he should be able to reach the knife, then cut themselves loose. He could see the knife, covered in Jack's blood.

Hearing distant voices, he shot a panicked look towards his partner. No no no no! He scooted as fast as he could back to his place next to Jack.

His heart raced, if Sinclair discovered the flaw in his security they would be screwed.

As the footsteps got louder, Mac realized he wasn't going to make it back to where they left him. Just then the door creaked open.

To be continued...


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you everyone for your patience. This has taken longer to crank out than it should have, but I will be able to write more now so i should be able to update much more frequently.**

"Alex, Levi, check their restraints," Sinclair ordered, eyeing Mac suspiciously. "What have you been up to Mr. Macgyver? I was warned that you and your partner have been known to escape otherwise impossible situations in the past. Apparently I need to take further precautions to insure that you both stay right where you are." The arms dealer turned to speak with Alex, who nodded and left the room. Sinclair turned back to face his prisoners again.

"I'm curious, have you always been a sadistic prick?" Jack taunted. Sinclair paused at the torture table to pick up the knife on his way over to Jack. Twisting his upper half, he delivered a hard backhand to the side of the agents face. "I'm gonna take that as a yes," Jack said flexing his jaw.

Sinclair twisted the knife in his grasp, the blood had begun to dry at the edges, he lowered the flat side of the blade to rest on Jacks thigh then pulled sharply, wiping most of the blood off onto the black denim. Flipping the blade over to the other side Sinclair twisted the knife at the last moment easily slicing through the sturdy fabric and into the flesh beneath it. Jack grimaced, but quickly schooled his features.

"I'm quite impressed with you Mr. Dalton, my previous captives were begging me to stop by this point. Perhaps we have not found the right tool for you yet." Sinclair said with a sinister smirk. Turning his back on Jack, he walked back to the table.

The heavy door creaked open again signaling the return of Alex. He carried some tools and chain with him. He went right to work drilling two holes in the floor behind Mac and Jack. He threaded the chain over the middle support bar of the chair underneath Mac, then brought both ends of the chain to the hole he drilled, placing a concrete anchor through the ends of chain and hammering the anchor in. Moving behind Jack he began to replicate the process.

'Dammit! When are we going to catch a break?' Mac thought to himself. With their chairs effectively chained to the floor, they weren't going anywhere.

Training had taught him how to deal with high stress without panicking, but the young agent could not see a way out of this one and being utterly powerless to do anything had Mac on the verge of a breakdown.

He looked back to the table to see what their captor was up to, His stomach dropped at seeing what Sinclair was assembling. A picana. Looks like that break isn't going to be caught anytime soon.

Picana was a nasty device made specifically for torture by delivering painful non lethal shocks to its victims. Jack had reluctantly told him about his experience with the picana, one night after several beers. It was a typical night of sharing stories by the fire pit, decompressing after a long mission, and Jack had started to tell a story about a mission in Venezuela when he hesitated, Mac instantly curious, practically begged him to finish the story. Mac regretted pushing Jack when he saw the haunted look in his best friends eyes as he relived the painful memory.

Jack had been captured by the head of a drug cartel, Carlito Silva, who had killed his CIA partner and tortured the older agent within an inch of his life.

Mac looked towards his friend, Jack's expression unreadable. Jack must have felt Mac's eyes on him because he turned to look at him. He saw it then, the fear and pain in Jack's eyes. It broke his heart to see it. Jack tried for a small reassuring smile and said, "It's okay… I got this."

Levi walked up behind Jack with a bucket of water, lifting it up he poured the chilling contents over Jacks head. "Would it kill you to spring for a water heater? Is he always this cheap?" He tossed over his shoulder.

Sinclair wheeled the table over and picked up the insulated handle of the picana, admiring it like it was some beautiful piece of art. Alex manned the rheostat, which controls the intensity of the shocks. "I've been looking forward to this," Sinclair said with a gleam in his eyes.

This is really gonna suck Jack thought, unconsciously holding his breath as he watched brass tip of the picana get closer until it made contact with his abdomen. White hot fire shooting through his middle.

Wasting no time the arms dealer touched the device to his prisoners ribs, eliciting a pained yelp from the man.

Jack couldn't catch his breath as he was hit with another jolt. He tried desperately to hold back his cries of pain so his partner wouldn't worry so much. He was already looking at him like he was some broken puppy. 'Dammit I wish I never told him that story.'

Mac watched as Jack took a hit to his thigh causing a small groan to escape his lips.

Unhappy with the unsatisfying reactions Sinclair nodded to Alex, who turned the knob on the rheostat to the highest setting.

Mac looked on worriedly as Sinclair touched the brass end to the knife wound above Jack's hip bone. The scream that came out of his friend was gut wrenching. Fury instantly overflowing, "You son of a bitch!" he shouted at their captor.

To be continued...


	8. Chapter 8

S **POILERS FOR SEASON 2**

 **What do y'all think of the new season so far? I'm still not sure if I'm liking the new girl, she kinda cuts into Mac and Jack time. I thoroughly enjoyed the scene when Mac and Jack were captured. There were even similarities between the episode and my previous chapters, he acted just like I imagined he would. Also I felt like she took away from Jacks badassness, like she is the badass and Jack is just there for comic relief, I mean he had to have Bozer save him for goodness sake. I have mixed feelings after episode two as well, you could really feel how much he cares for Riley the acting was superb! Also not much badassness from Jack still. It makes me nervous that they are going to change the dynamic too much.**

 **Anyway, again I apologize for the wait. I hope to finish up this story with the next week though. Thank you to all who stuck with me and followed, favorited, and reviewed. Thank you to my wonderful beta Lifeart for helping me out so much! Any remaining mistakes are mine. Chapter 8 here we go!**

He was still shaking with anger when Sinclair spoke.

"Don't tell me you are ready to end all your partners suffering already, we just got started," Sinclair said disappointedly. Mac spared a glance at his friend briefly then, dropping his gaze to the hard cement floor, he gently shook his head from side to side. "I didn't think so," Sinclair responded smugly.

His ears were ringing and the muscles around the knife wound on his side were twitching involuntarily. 'This is just as fun as I remembered it being', Jack thought, blinking to clear his somewhat blurry vision. He cast a glance sideways to his partner, Mac's head was down with his eyes squeezed shut. Guilt hit Jack, like a punch in the gut. He knew this was tearing the kid up, but he couldn't hold back that last scream that had escaped his defenses, he had to do better.

"Let's get back to it, shall we." Sinclair stated looking all too pleased at the idea.

With his head down, Mac tried desperately to tune out the pained moans and sizzling zaps his best friend was enduring just inches away from him. It wasn't possible. With his eyes closed his hearing seemed to be more amplified. He heard Jack's panting breaths coming faster and more labored. Even more worry for his partner building he looked to Jack, searching for clues to his overall health. Beads of water dripped from his friends short hair, his face was flushed, his skin too pale, and now he had several red blistered burn marks forming across his torso.

After a hit to a particularly sensitive area on his ribs Jack couldn't hold back his shout of pain, his voice cracked halfway through and it turned barely audible.

Mac glared daggers at the arms dealer. "Would you like a taste?" Sinclair said suddenly pointing the picana in Mac's direction.

'NO! Not the kid, please!' Jack screamed in his head. Not waiting for a reply their captor touched the end of the picana to Mac's side. The kid's scream physically hurt Jack to hear. He hit the younger agent again this time in the neck. Mac's teeth came together with an audible click then his head dropped to his chest.

Jack's heart flip flopped. 'Please don't be dead', he plead silently.

He watched his friend intently, praying for a sign of life. Macs chest rose slightly with a shallow breath and relief flooded Jack's soul, he's breathing, thank God!

"How 'bout you picana someone your own size." Jack said, forcing a smile and a chuckle he didn't feel.

"You are a very difficult, how do they say it, pain in the ass Mr. Dalton." Sinclair spat. "I'm shocked you would even suggest such a thing." Jack retorted, genuinely laughing this time.

Sinclair seemed frustrated, tired even. Jack smirked at the small victory, he held his captors stare in challenge. Sinclair may hold all the cards, but he couldn't control Jack's strong and stubborn will. He was never going to break and give up, that would go against every fiber of his being. Their captor's slip of confidence allowed a sliver of hope to take hold within the older agent, tired pissed off bad guys made mistakes and he was going to push this guy's buttons until he made one.

As he flexed his grip on the handle of the torture device, Sinclair eyed the infected knife wound on Jack's shoulder and grinned menacingly before jabbing the end into the already inflamed wound and held it there. The agent's scream erupted immediately, his voice clear with agony.

There was no holding back this time and he was grateful the kid was passed out. White hot fire engulfed his shoulder and spread up his neck and face. He looked down at his shoulder and was surprised to find he wasn't actually on fire. His vision started to darken at the edges and he welcomed the release from agony that oblivion promised.

Sinclair watched as the agent's head lolled to a stop with satisfaction. It had been two long days for the arms dealer and these two were proving to be more difficult than he had expected. He felt his control slipping, which in turn was fueling the fury building deep inside. The man in front of him had been pushing his buttons since their first meeting, and he looked forward to finishing off the older agent. He only needed one of them alive anyway, but right now he was going to rest, these two weren't going anywhere.

Mac came to first, how long had he been out? It felt like several hours. He was certain his mouth was more dry than the Sahara, what he wouldn't give for a glass of water. He heard his partner's shallow raspy breaths and looked over at him. Jack was not looking too good. His breathing sounded awful and his skin was too pale, judging by the glistening dark stain on his friends slightly faded black jeans, his pallor was due to blood loss.

Mac slid his chair as close as he could get to Jack, then stretched his fingers out to touch the former Delta's arm. The fever was worse, he discovered with a sigh. Jack wasn't going to make it much longer and that realization had him on the verge of panic.

"Mmc" Jack mumbled softly. Mac winced in sympathy, The older man was dreaming about him and Jack had his worst nightmares when he had a high fever.

"Jack", Mac tried to wake his friend from the torment of his unconsciousness. He squeezed Jack's arm the best he could manage and repeated his plea. "Jack, come on man, I need you with me."

"Mmm", the older man groaned. "Jack, hey big guy, ya with me?"

"Mmac" Jack slurred.

"You look like shit, man." Mac stated unapologetically.

Jack squinted an eye open to look at his friend and groaned, "I feel like it too, kid."

"This isn't all just a bad dream, is it?" Jack asked hopefully.

"No, sorry buddy. It's all real."

"I was afraid of that."

To be continued...


	9. Chapter 9

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed, followed and favorited! It makes my day whenever I get a notification. Shout out to my awesome beta Lifeart for being so awesome! Thank you all for being so patient with me also. I don't know about y'all, but I'm desperately hoping for an awesome episode tonight. Anyway here is chapter nine. Any remaining mistakes are mine.**

He was freezing and starting to shiver, unsure if it was from temperature, fever, or blood loss, hell maybe all the above. He tried to hide the involuntary movements as best as he could because his partner was already visibly worried about him.

His job was to protect Mac and sometimes he had to protect him from himself. The kid, when left to his own devices, had a bad habit of replaying everything that happened and finding fault in himself. He had that look on his face now.

"You cold?" Mac asked suddenly looking at Jack intently.

"Not too bad," Jack lied. Mac saw right through it.

"Did that piñata zap any ideas into that big swollen head of yours?" Jack asked in an attempt to deflect the attention off himself.

"It's a picana, Jack and no, sorry." Mac replied, hanging his head. Mac felt guilty for not being able to get them out of their predicament.

"You've got nothing to be sorry about kid, none of this is your fault. Hey, I'm serious man, stop beating yourself up." Jack demanded.

"I don't think we are going to make it out of this one, Jack," Mac said with his head still downcast.

Jack hated the look of defeat on his friends face. "Mac…" Jack paused, not really knowing what to say, when the large metal door swung open with a clang and Sinclair strode in and was closely followed by Alex.

"How delightfully adorable!" The arms dealer declared, gesturing towards Jack's left arm, where Mac's fingers were still resting. Mac jerked his fingers back to grip on the wooden arm rest of his chair, cursing his fuzzy brain for showing weakness.

"My my my... Mr. Dalton, you are not looking well." Sinclair stated with an evil grin.

"At least I have an excuse." Jack shot back.

Sinclair backhanded Jack with a closed fist, opening the split on his lip again.

Even through the pounding of his head, Jack smiled back at their captor. He watched as a switch flipped in Sinclair's eyes, giving way to a maniacal unhinged focus.

Sinclair throttled Jack in the face before stomping over to the table and retrieving the knife. "I've really been looking forward to this, after all, I only need one of you alive." Standing to the side and behind Jack, he grabbed the agents hair and yanked it back, exposing the vulnerable, tender skin under his jaw.

Mac had a front row seat to the worst nightmare his subconscious could conjure. He was going to watch his best friend die right in front of him and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He saw the knife pressing into the soft flesh under Jack's jaw so hard that blood started to trickle down his neck and gather in the hollow of his collarbone. Tears threatened to spill at the overwhelming emotion of what was about to happen.

Jack felt the cold steel against his feverish skin and briefly wondered if he had maybe pushed this guy too far. Jack grimaced and looked down through his lashes and found his friend staring at him with a horrified expression.

Jack's heart broke for the kid. "Don't watch this, brother… Please."

He was always trying to protect Mac even at the end. The tears spilled then and Mac desperately tried to find the words to convey how much Jack meant to him, but he couldn't. Jack seemed to understand though and said, "It's okay bud, me too." A tear streaked down the side of Jack's face and he tried to put on a comforting smile. Mac started to turn away from Jack to honor his friends wishes.

"This is all very touching, but," the door slammed against the wall with a loud bang as Levi came rushing in.

Mac jumped at the sound of the heavy door rebounding off the concrete wall and looked back to see Levi whisper in Sinclair's ear.

Frustration grew on Sinclair's face as he listened to Levi. "Incompetent fools!" Sinclair shouted pulling the knife away from Jack's throat and letting go of his hair. The arms dealer looked down at the knife in his hand and flipped it over so the hilt was pointing up then thrust it down into Jack's arm near the wrist, embedding into the wooden armrest underneath, then he stormed out of the room to the sound of his prisoner's howl of pain.

To be continued…

Sorry for the cliffie. I Have half of the next chapter, but couldn't find a good stopping point so I cut this one a bit short.


	10. Chapter 10

**What did y'all think about the episode last night? Finally had some bromance moments, but was still left wanting a bit more, you know? I knew something was up with the new chic. I just wonder what it is. Thank you to Lifeart for being my beta and fixing my mistakes. All remaining mistakes are mine. Here is chapter ten!**

"Jack!" Mac yelled, feeling utterly helpless to do anything for his brother, but relieved beyond words that he was still here with him.

Jack, with his eyes squeezed shut, was trying to gain control over the pain and his breathing. He opened his eyes and looked at the knife pinning his arm to the chair. "Oww," he breathed raspily.

"Are you okay?" Mac questioned, knowing how dumb it sounded, under the circumstances.

Jack half chuckled and answered with "I've been better, but could be worse." Regretting his reply when he saw Mac grimace reminding him how close he came to losing his partner. He looked back to the dagger in his arm, it was nearly touching the zip tie! "This is really gonna suck, kid, but I think I might be able to get loose."

Mac looked at him somewhat confused.

Jack steeled himself for the gruesome job ahead, he just hoped he wouldn't pass out. He lifted his hand bending it back as far as the tie allowed, simultaneously pulling his arm towards his body. "Aaaaaarrrrr!" he growled, as he felt the sharp slicing burn of the blade cut through his flesh. Sweat beaded on his brow and his whole body shook from pain and exertion.

His brain screamed at him to stop, but his will to get them out of this hell overrode the command. The knife was halfway through the thick plastic when he heard Mac saying his name over the roar of blood rushing in his ears.

"Jack stop!" Mac said pleadingly, concern etched on his bruised face. "No can do, bud. We are getting out of here," Jack panted, not bothering to look up.

"You're losing too much blood!" Mac replied, staring horrified at the blood steadily dripping from the armrest. Jack looked to his friend, "Almost through, brother, then you can fix me up, okay?" Mac didn't like it, but he knew this was probably their best chance of escape.

With his teeth clenched and eyes squinted, Jack pulled up and back on the zip tie as hard as he could manage, until it snapped and fell to the floor in a small puddle of Jack's blood. He let himself take a few deep breaths, before he continued, in hopes of quelling the nausea that had presented itself.

He still had to get the knife out of his arm, which hadn't budged yet.

His hand shook and he couldn't feel his fingers, but he was spurred on by thoughts of freedom and killing the sadistic bastard who had held them captive and tortured them for the last three days.

In order to get more leverage Jack raised his right arm slowly up the blade to the hilt, took a couple quick breaths and pulled back, holding his breath and with his eyes opened to little more than slits, he pulled. The knife wound was now twice as wide as it was when Sinclair had shoved it in there. All the sudden the dagger shifted in the direction Jack was pulling. Jack let out a relieved somewhat hysterical breathy chuckle.

He knew that Sinclair would be back soon and it would be over for Jack and Mac if he didn't get the blade out before then, he didn't have time to take a break. Just thinking about Sinclair turning his fiendish attention on his brother gave Jack a sudden burst of hell-bent urgency. He pushed his arm forward, and let loose a strangled high pitched moan. The knife moved a little easier this time. Two more times back and forth and the knife was free from the chair.

Not wasting any time Jack brought the handle to his mouth and gently bit down, then he lowered his arm sliding it off the blade. He rolled his eyes and one last muffled moan escaped his lips. Finally his arm was free!

He gingerly reached up, his joints stiff from the lack movement. He tried grasping the hilt, but his fingers weren't obeying the command. He could still move his thumb and forefinger, so he gripped it the best he could, letting go with his teeth.

The agents looked to the door when they heard movement and voices outside of it. They looked at each at the same time each sharing a wide eyed nervous look. "If you could hurry this up, it would be appreciated, Man." Jack cut the zip tie holding his left hand and passed the weapon over to his good arm. Reaching over to Mac he slid the blade under his forearm and sliced through the thick plastic with ease. Mac took the knife from his partner and cut his other arm free then his legs. Mac quickly dropped to the floor and cut his friend's legs loose.

Jack cradled his right arm protectively against his chest, gravity pulling the stream of blood along his arm and dripping off his elbow.

His number one priority was to stop the bleeding, Jack couldn't afford to lose more of the vital substance. Mac looked around the room for anything to use as a bandage. He spotted what was left of Jack's shirt lying in a heap in the corner. It may not be very sanitary, but it should slow the bleeding. He grabbed it and tore it into two large squares and three strips. The large squares he folded and placed over the entry and exit wounds then tied them firmly into place with the strips.

Mac kept glancing up at him worriedly while he worked bandaging his arm. "I'm gonna be fine, brother," Jack said.

"You look like you are about to pass out," Mac said, unconvinced. They both jerked their heads to the door, hearing noises outside again.

Mac scrambled to the torture table, scanning the contents in full Macgyver mode. Jack stood as quickly as his body allowed and picked up the knife Mac had left on the floor in front of him. The voices got louder.

To be continued…


	11. Chapter 11

Thank you to everyone who reviewed, followed, and favorited! I apologize for the wait. I'm going on a short vacation so it may be a week or so before the next chapter. Thank you to my beta Lifeart to being awesome as always. All remaining mistakes are mine.

Macs eyes scoured the table and landed on the picana. He pushed aside the sickening feeling he had when the images of Jack being tortured with the device replayed with vivid clarity in his mind. He hooked up the battery cables and turned the rheostat as high as it would go. A smirk grew on his face, it was payback time.

Jack quickly shuffled over to the wall next to the door and leaned against it, waiting, knife in hand. Adrenaline and stubbornness was the only thing keeping him vertical.

Mac's nerves were frayed and his anxiety for his partner was through the roof. Sinclair had very nearly ended Jack's existence, right in front of him. If they made it out of this hell hole, he knew the nightmares of losing Jack would torment his sleep for the foreseeable future.

Mac looked his partner over, a drop of blood fell from his chin and splashed onto his bruised and heaving chest. Jack was shivering and he was too pale, he knew fever and blood loss were the most likely culprits. Any lesser man would have dropped long ago.

He heard Sinclair and his goons talking as they approached the door. Mac watched Jack transform into the Delta Operator he had met years ago in the sandbox.

Mac silently communicated that the first one through the door would be Jack's then Mac would electrify the metal door with the picana. Jack nodded in understanding.

The door swung open with Alex entering first. Jack flattened himself against the wall, waiting for his victim to clear the entryway.

He allowed him to get a step into the room before he pounced.

He threw his good arm around Alex's head.

Mac electrified the door in the same moment and heard a scream which was followed by a thud.

The former Delta slid the blade into the base of the bodyguards neck. He felt the huge man go limp and let him drop bonelessly to the floor.

Suddenly the door was kicked hard and it swung inward, narrowly missing Mac.

Levi roared in anger and charged in.

Jack heard Levi and was mid turn when he was tackled.

Mac saw the door fly open and Sinclair trying to pick himself up from the ground.

He ran to the arms dealer and grabbed two fistfuls of the front of his shirt and lifted him off the ground then slammed his back into the concrete wall.

The look of surprise on Sinclair's face was almost comical. "I told you I was going to kill you," Mac ground out coldly.

Jack twisted out from under Levi and stood quickly, he had lost the knife.

Jack delivered a kick to his face and followed them up with several kicks to the bodyguards abdomen.

Levi struggled upright then swung as hard as he could at the angry red knife wound by Jack's hip.

Mac's heart lept into his throat when he heard the familiar sound of his partner crying out in pain.

Jack was doubled over and cursing his unusually slow reaction time. Levi landed a punch to the side of Jack's face, then he raised him off the ground, pressing his forearm into Jack's throat. "You killed my friend!" Levi yelled. Jack pulled weakly at the meaty arm pinning him to the wall.

Jack needed him. Mac pulled Sinclair close to him then thrust him away forcefully. Sinclairs head bounced off the concrete wall with a crack.

Jack would be unconscious in seconds if Mac didn't do something right then, so he stepped up behind Levi and kicked him in the balls as hard as he could. Jack was the one who taught him how to fight after all.

Levi dropped to his knees, clutching the family jewels, and Jack dropped with him, out of breath, but still conscious.

Mac looked around the room for his next weapon.

The glint of polished metal drew his eye.

He kicked the knife to Jack's ready hand.

Levi dove forward, still hyper focused on Jack. There was a moment of struggle then all was still.

"Jack… Jack are you okay!?" Mac yelled. Pulling on Levi's shoulder and rolling him off his partner. Judging by the hole in the bodyguards neck, he was very much dead.

"I'm fine, kid," Jack said gasping for air. "Unless you want to count being almost smothered by the not so friendly giant," he wheezed. Mac smiled in relief.

Mac saw his friend shiver. "Hey let's get you off this cold floor," Mac said, helping him stand. The knife wound at Jack's hip had started bleeding again. Mac shucked out of his long sleeve shirt, leaving him in his white bloodstained undershirt, then helped his partner ease his injured arm into Macs dingy and holey olive green shirt.

"Down!" Jack screamed. His eyes wide and focused on something behind Mac.

Gunfire erupted.

Jack pulled Mac toward the wall where he had been standing a moment before and charged at their attacker.

Bullets impacted the concrete near his face and the shards peppered his cheek.

Jack didn't have time to think he just ran and prayed he could take out Sinclair before the lunatic hurt Mac or worse.

At seeing the former Delta commander run straight for him, Sinclairs eyes bugged out and he started to back peddle.

Jack knocked the small gun out of the arms dealers grasp then hooked his arm behind the the man's neck, anchoring him in place "No! Please!" Sinclair begged. Without hesitation Jack thrust the blade up under his chin, killing him instantly.

"Let's get outta here, kid," Jack stated, turning towards his partner. Borderline panic shot through him at the sight that greeted him. "Oh my God! Mac!" He exclaimed as he ran to help his partner.

To be continued...


	12. Chapter 12

**Thank you to those that reviewed, favorited, and followed! I should have the next chapter out soon. I'm sick at the moment so please review and tell me what you think so get more fuel to write the next one and make me feel better;) The ever amazing Lifeart beta'd this for me, thank you dear. I've really enjoyed the last two episodes, lots of Mac and Jack. Big improvement from the first few episodes. Obviously I do not own Macgyver or profit from this in anyway. On to chapter twelve.**

Blood was running all down the side of the kid's face. "Mac, let me see." Jack demanded, directing Mac's face toward him with his hand under his chin. "It's nothing, I'm fine, Jack, I just got hit with some shards of concrete."

"It doesn't look like nothin'," Jack fired back in full blown mother hen mode.

Mac wiped at the blood with the hem of his undershirt. "It's amazing one of us didn't get shot. That was too close," Mac stated, unconsciously running his eyes over his partner to check for new injuries.

"Way too close," Jack replied, eyeing the still bleeding cuts around his friend's eye.

Jack then went over to the first body to check their pockets for weapons or a phone, while Mac worked on something at the table.

He wasn't sure lying to Mac was the best idea, he just didn't want to worry him anymore than necessary. Their experiences here have taken a toll on both of them, especially Mac. Not even an hour ago, the kid had to watch as Jack was very nearly killed right in front of him and he would never forget the look of devastation on his face, it was heartbreaking. Jack took his job very seriously and, as long as he drew breath, he wouldn't stop.

He had barely registered the pain from the gunshot, when it had happened. The adrenaline from the short lived battle was beginning to wear off and the pain was picking up intensity.

He knelt beside the body of the arms dealer, the former Delta squeezed his eyes shut as he struggled to get the throbbing burn under control.

He raised up the dark olive shirt to take a quick look at the damage. The entry wound was a few inches above the knife wound and a little closer to his side. There wasn't an exit wound. There was a steady stream of blood flowing from the wound and he needed to apply pressure to slow it down. He really couldn't afford to lose much more of the vital substance.

He found a handkerchief, still in its package, inside the breast pocket of Sinclair's jacket. He took the belt from him as well. He put the folded handkerchief on top of the wound then cinched the belt as tight as he could stand. Satisfied with his patch job, he got back to searching the bodies.

Jack checked through the pockets of the dead men and came up empty. "There has got to be a phone somewhere in this hell hole," he picked up the gun and pressed the magazine release, to check the ammo, there were nine rounds left. He pulled the slide back, loading a round.

"You know, I think I might actually be glad to hear ol' Matty the Hun's voice."

"I bet she'll be glad to hear from us to. The whole team must be going crazy trying to find us," Mac stated thoughtfully.

"Then let's get the hell outta here. What do you say, brother?" Jack suggested, holding an arm protectively across his injured side.

"That's the best plan I've ever heard," Mac replied.

Jack and Mac exited the room they had been held captive in the last three days. The older agent led the way down the hall, gun drawn, just in case there were more bad guys.

He held his bandaged arm tight against his injured hip, the added pressure helping ease the deep throbbing pain that had settled there.

Mac followed closely behind, armed with a taser he made out of the picana and a flashlight. It only had enough zap for one use, but it was better than nothing.

The room right next to them had two walkies and security monitors. The agents watched the screens for a few minutes, looking for evidence of hostiles. "It doesn't look like there is anyone else here," Mac said, hopefully.

"Maybe our luck is changing for the better," Jack offered.

At the end of the hall there was another room. Jack entered first to clear the small room, then his partner joined him. "This must be where they took our stuff," Mac stated, spotting his satchel and their jackets.

"No phones, but on the bright side, I found your knife," Jack said with a tired smile.

After he helped Jack with his jacket, he put on his own, he inhaled the familiar scent. His jacket was just as he remembered it, nothing about it had changed, unlike him it was the same as it was before their capture, unmarred and intact.

Memories flashed to the surface in his mind unbidden, Jack's screams of pain, Sinclair pressing the blade into Jack's neck, the blood trickling down his neck, Jack pleading "Don't watch this, brother… please."

Jack turned to face his partner when Mac didn't answer him, "Mac? You alright, bud?" He put his good hand on his friend's shoulder, "Mac…" the younger agent looked stricken, like he was witnessing something horrendous.

Jack put the gun in the back of his pants to free up his other hand. He cupped the sides of his friend's face. Unshed tears welled up in Mac's eyes. "Dammit Mac! Snap out of it!" Jack shouted, giving him a gentle shake.

Recognition sparked in the blues eyes and zeroed in on the brown. "Jack?" Mac whispered, confusion furrowing his brow. His arms shot out to grasp onto the front of his friends jacket, anchoring him in the present.

"Yeah kid, it's me. You had me scared for a minute there." Moving his hands to Mac's shoulders.

Mac cleared his throat. "Sorry, I kinda spaced out, I guess, "Mac said clearing his throat again.

"Yeah a little bit." Jack replied, not convinced.

"Probably has something to do with lack of sustenance that we've had for the last three days," Mac added.

"Yeah, well the sooner we get outta here the sooner we can fix that, okay? Let's get a move on." Mac nodded in agreement.

"This place is a fuckin' maze." Jack exclaimed, turning down another hallway.

He was concerned about his best friend. Jack knew there was more going on than what Mac admitted. Now wasn't the right time to hash it out though, timing was everything when it came to Mac, if he didn't choose correctly he would shut him out.

Just a few steps away from entering the room, at the end of the hall, Jack felt a wave of lightheadedness and he faltered, falling against the wall for support. "Jack!" Mac shouted, rushing forward.

The jolt shot pain through his right side causing him to moan. Suddenly Mac's face came into view. "What is it?" Mac questioned, concern etched on his features.

"Just got a little dizzy is all," Jack said breathlessly. Mac saw a darker area on the shirt he had given his friend to wear. He put his hand on it, his stomach dropped when it came away wet with blood.

To be continued...


	13. Chapter 13

Thank you so much to those that have reviewed, pm'd, favorited, and followed. I never expected such nice feedback. A few months ago I had my world turned upside down now it seems like I'm stuck in darkness. Not only has writing this story provided a nice outlet for me to escape the darkness for a while, but also every kind review and message received is a bright light in my day. Thank you all very much. Thank you to lifeart for being my beta and correcting my blunders. All remaining mistakes are mine.

"It's fine, Mac. I'm fine," Jack persisted.

'That's way too much blood,' Mac thought, ignoring his partner.

He pulled up the shirt expecting to see the knife wound bleeding again but instead he found the majority of the bleeding coming from an oversaturated cloth, held on by a belt.

Jack saw betrayal flash in the kids eyes before it morphed into anger. "Mac, I just-"

"Stay here and keep pressure on that," Mac interrupted, cutting off Jack's explanation. "I think I saw something in the last room I can use to slow the bleeding."

Mac jogged back the way they came.

"Fuck," Jack mouthed quietly, letting his head fall back and rest against the wall.

Fresh worry and a fair amount of frustration hastened Mac's steps. He found the flannel shirt he had seen earlier, then did a quick look around the room for anything else that could be useful.

'Why didn't he tell me?' After taking one last look around the room, he rushed back to his best friend.

Mac rounded the corner and saw his partner on the floor. "Jack! No no no no no no."

He sprinted to his side. It looked like he had slid down the wall, his chin was tilted towards his shoulder and rested on his chest, his left arm lay relaxed at his side. His right arm lay palm up in his lap and covered in blood.

"Jack don't do this to me," His stomach was in his throat as he checked for a pulse under his friend's jaw. Jack was cool to the touch.

He let out a choked sob of relief when he felt the weak, but present beats on the tips of his fingers.

Mac reached under the older agent's arms to pull him sideways and away from the wall so he could lay him flat.

Jack moaned softly, but didn't waken.

Mac lifted the shirt and loosened the belt, quickly adding the thick shirt to the soaked cloth. He cinched the belt tight.

Jack moaned again and feebly tried to push Mac's hands away. Mac caught Jack's hands easily.

"I'm sorry buddy, I know it hurts, but it has to stay, okay," Mac explained.

Jack nodded his understanding.

Mac released his injured arm, then checked the capillary refill time on Jack's left hand, by pressing down on the nail beds and counting how long it took to fill back up with blood.

It took four seconds, Jack was most likely in stage three of hypovolemic shock. This was bad, if Jack got to stage four, the damage could be irreversible and he would die.

Anger bubbled up inside him, he latched on to the front of his partners jacket and lifted him to a seated position.

"What the hell were you thinking!" Mac screamed at his friend, still gripping the front of his jacket and pulling him close. "You should have told me you got shot!"

Jack grimaced from the rough treatment and the pain he heard in the kid's voice.

"Mac… I…" Jack started, a loud noise, coming from beyond the door at the end of the hall, cut him off.

Mac scrambled to help his partner stand, ducking under Jack's injured arm to steady him as they walked towards the door.

Mac twisted the doorknob slowly, while Jack stepped in front of his partner, lifting his arm off of his shoulders and using it to usher Mac behind him.

They stepped into what appeared to be a large warehouse full of crates and boxes.

"Well it looks like we found his storage facility," Mac whispered. Just then they heard voices at the far end of the warehouse.

The agents crept closer until the owners of the voices they heard came into view.

Concealed behind a row of wooden boxes, they sized up the new obstacles before them. Both men were armed, their handguns holstered at the hip. One of them loaded a truck, while the other one spoke into a walkie. "I can't get anyone to answer," the man shouted.

Jack blinked hard, desperately trying to force his head to clear. He felt like he was going to black out again and the idea of leaving Mac unprotected had his already racing heart picking up speed.

Mac looked at his partner, Jack leaned heavily on the crate in front of him, his breathing was shallow and fast, like he couldn't seem to catch his breath and he was so pale.

"Hey man, how are you doing?" Mac whispered, his expression openly showing his concern.

Jack realized belatedly that Mac was talking to him and turned to look at him. His vision started to swim and he reached out to his best friend to steady him. His body betrayed him further by choosing the same moment for his knees to buckle.

Mac caught him and lowered him to his knees, then knelt in front of him.

Jack lowered his forehead to rest on Macs shoulder and waited for the room to stop spinning. Mac put his hand on the back of Jack's head.

It killed him to see Jack in such bad shape.

There was a very real possibility that he could lose him and he couldn't bare to think about it. Jack was so many things to him; best friend, partner, brother, and father.

"I'm going to go find Mr. Sinclair!" he heard the man shout, bringing him out of his thoughts.

One armed bad guy was definitely more manageable than two. Hopefully when the other bad guy "found" Mr. Sinclair he didn't call for reinforcements.

"I'll be right back," Mac declared.

"Not without me," Jack argued, shaking his head.

"Jack, you can barely stand."

"You go, I go," Jack fired back resolutely.

He had seen the look Jack was giving him many times before and knew that he would be unable to convince his partner to sit this one out.

"Alright, alright." Mac conceded, helping Jack to stand.

The agents stealthily made their way near the man still loading the truck. Mac waited until the bad guy picked up another crate, to make his move. He stepped in front of him cutting off his path and Jack flanked him, holding the gun to the man's head and disarming him.

"Are there any-" Mac was interrupted by wood splintering near his head.

The gunfire was deafening inside the warehouse, "Down!" Jack shouted, diving for cover. Mac quickly followed, not needing any persuasion.

To be continued...


	14. Chapter 14

**Thank you to all that reviewed, followed, and favorited. It really does mean a lot to me. If anyone is wondering about the timeline of this fic, I placed it during season one before the season finale. I'm sorry about the cliffies, but I just can't help myself;).**

The gunfire was deafening inside the warehouse, "Down!" Jack shouted, diving for cover. Mac quickly followed, not needing any persuasion.

Jack army crawled forward a few feet to peer between two crates. Mac grimaced at the streaky trail of blood he left behind.

The former Delta spotted his target looking around nervously, he drew a bead on him, took a deep breath and exhaled, then squeezed the trigger. The bad guy dropped with a thud.

It never ceased to amaze him how Jack could always pull off the shot he needed to make, even on the verge of losing consciousness, and he made it look effortless. He hadn't yet figured out if it was the training Jack received becoming a Delta or if it was just his built in tenacity.

Mac watched and waited for movement. He also inventoried everything in his immediate surroundings. A crate of M-16's, grenades, and landmines were all within arms reach.

There was no way of knowing if the other bad guy had found another weapon during the short lived gunfight.

Jack struggled to stand, beside his partner. Mac heard his grunt and bent to help pull him upright.

Just then he heard the truck door open. Sinclairs man was sliding into the passenger's side door, Mac quickly ran all the possible scenarios through his mind, if he let him escape he could bring backup and lower Jack's chances of survival to zero, if he disabled the truck they would have to rely on finding a phone or radio to call for exfil.

Mac hated ifs especially when those ifs meant the life or death of his best friend, he wanted to know all the variables so he could make the best educated decisions.

Jack fired at the man, shattering the back glass of the truck, he cried out and pitched forward.

"I just winged em', Mac. I couldn't get a clear shot." He said breathlessly.

Mac had to stop him from leaving, he couldn't risk this guy bringing backup.

Mac grabbed one of the grenades and pulled the pin. He threw it sidearm and it rolled to a stop underneath the front end of the truck, in the same moment the engine roared to life.

Jack's eyes widened, then they both ducked bringing their arms to cover their heads.

The grenade rolled directly under the engine just as the driver had put it in drive. The blast lifted the front end of the truck off the ground and blew out both of the front tires. The engine whined and came to a stop and everything was quiet.

Mac jumped to his feet and ran to the truck. He opened the driver side door and pulled the unconscious driver out, laying him on the floor. Mac looked around for something to restrain Sinclairs man.

Jack struggled to get back to his feet and used the crates next to him to pull himself up he had to watch out for Mac. He took a couple steps before he fell back to his knees. He couldn't catch his breath, it felt like he was running a marathon.

Mac found some crate ties and used them to restrain the still unconscious bad guy. With the last threat neutralized, Mac had one thing on his mind and that was to find a phone. Jack needed help fast!

Jack managed to pull himself up again, taking several steps before his legs gave out again.

Mac checked the pockets of the unconscious man and found no phone. He ran to the guy Jack shot and went through his pockets, desperately praying that this guy had a phone. Jack's life depended on it.

Mac hit pay dirt, he finally found a phone, he frantically typed the number for the Phoenix's secure line.

Jill came into the war room to tell Matty she had Macgyver on the line. "Put him through." Relief surged through her, but she kept a straight face. 'Thank God.'

Riley and Bozer stood and made their way to Matty. They both had been going crazy trying to find Mac and Jack. They anxiously waited to hear from their friends and unconsciously held their breath as Jill put Mac through.

Matty tapped the speakerphone icon so both Riley and Bozer could hear from their friend.

"Matty we need an exfil fast with a medic on board and a few bags of O negative. Jack has lost a lot of blood, he is hurt pretty bad."

Riley gasped and brought her hand over her mouth. Bozer put his hand on her shoulder to comfort her.

"Mac do you know where you are?" Matty asked, concern in her voice. She may give Jack a hard time, but she loved him like family,

"Riley, can you trace this phone to find out where we are.?" "On it, Mac." She replied already on her laptop, her fingers flying over the keys."

"I've got your location Mac, you're in the northern tip of Batman, Turkey."

Mac started making his way back to his partner.

"How long until exfil, Matty?"

"I'm working on it Mac."

"Hey man, can you tell us what happened? Bozer requested.

"Well in short, we procured the hard drive, stashed it, got ambushed at the airport, taken to the arms dealers compound, tortured, Jack was shot, killed the arms dealer and his goons, and took out another bad guy in the warehouse and have another tied up and unconscious."

"Damn" Bozer said in disbelief. They had all begun to fear the worst when they hadn't heard anything from the agents in three days. He was so relieved to hear from his best friend.

"Okay Mac I've got a chopper headed to you with a medic, they should be there in a hour."

"Alright Matty." Mac answered, wishing that they didn't have to wait an hour to get help for Jack.

He turned at the end of the aisle and picked up his pace, he heard his partner's moans and grunts.

He found Jack leaning on a crate with his head resting on top.

"How ya doing buddy?" "Peachy." Jack weakly replied.

"We've got exfil coming within the hour, hang in there, alright?" Jack nodded his affirmative.

"I'm going to leave the phone with you, while I make a comfortable place for you to lay down and rest.

"Hey Jack how are you doing?" Riley asked, concern thick in her tone.

"I've been better Ri... but I'm gonna... be okay."

Riley's heart clenched, she had never heard Jack sound so weak before, it was unsettling, Riley had seen Jack get hurt before, but he always brushed it off like it was nothing. It scared her to think she might lose him. "You make sure you make it home, okay?" She hated that her voice trembled. "Sure thing, kiddo."

Riley heard movement on the phone and then what sounded like a thud followed by a groan from Jack. "Jack! Jack please answer me! Jack!"

To be continued...


	15. Chapter 15

I'm sorry it has taken so long to update this time. Life has just been absolute shit lately. Thanks for the kind reviews and thank you to Lifeart for being so nice and fixing my mistakes.

Mac loosened the bolts holding the truck bench seat in place, thinking that the seat would make a nice makeshift cot for Jack while they waited for exfil.

The last bolt came free and fell to the floor board. Mac lifted the seat up and let out a hiss, dropping the seat, his broken rib shifting painfully. Broken ribs were the worst, they hurt with every breath, twist, and turn and they turned your average cough or sneeze into pure unadulterated hell.

He tried again, pushing through the sharp stabbing pain, lifting the seat free of the truck and carrying it through the large opening that served as the loading dock.

Even though he was in the shade of the warehouse, he squinted at the bright light. The rays felt like nails trying to pierce through his eye sockets and into his brain.

The fresh air was worth it though, it was crisp, cool, and smelled loads better than their cement prison.

He set the bench seat down in the rocky grass outside of the opening, then headed back inside

His stomach dropped and he ran to his partner's side. Jack lay on his back, his bruised face turned toward him with his eyes closed. Even in unconsciousness his features were pinched in pain and his chest rose and fell at an alarming rate.

Rapid shallow breathing is one of the later signs for significant blood loss, it meant that Jack's lower blood volume was struggling to get enough oxygen to his brain.

"Dammit Jack… please don't die on me, please." Mac pleaded, his voice breaking. "Jack…" Mac said, clearing his throat and gently cupping both sides of the older mans face.

He distantly heard his name being called and quickly zeroed in on the source. The phone lay a couple feet away and appeared to have fallen from Jacks grasp when he went down.

"Riley?"

"Mac, is Jack okay? I mean, how bad is he?" Riley asked nervously.

"He's gonna be fine Riley." Mac answered with a confidence he didn't feel.

"Don't lie to me, I overheard you a moment ago. Do you really think he might not make it? How bad is he Mac?"

Mac dropped his head and squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"It's bad…" Mac confirmed. "I've never seen him like this before." Tears rolled down his face before he realized what was happening.

Somehow saying it out loud made it more real.

"I had a fight with him before he left, Mac, I can't have that be my last memory of him."

Mac wiped the moisture from his face and put his hand on Jacks chest, feeling the fast but steady beats, "It won't be Riley, if there's one thing I know about Jack it's that he's a fighter, he'll never give up."

Mac placed the phone next to him and put it on speaker.

"Jack, hey buddy, I need you to wake up okay?" Mac gently tapped the least bruised looking side of his friends face. "Jack, come on big guy."

Two brown slits appeared as Jack slowly pried his eyes open, which appeared to be a monumental effort.

"There you are." Mac smiled with relief.

"Mac?" Jack rasped, confused. Mac winced in sympathy at the sound of his partners voice, he sounded like he had been gargling with broken glass.

"How much longer until exfil?"

"Fifty minutes Mac." Riley quickly replied.

"Ri?

"It's me Jack, just so you know, you scared the shit out of me.

"Sorry… Ri, about the other day-"

"You were just looking out for me, just like always Jack. There's nothing you need to say especially since it's painful to hear you try to talk right now."

Jack attempted to chuckle and found out quickly that was a very bad idea. Fire ignited in his side and he had to stifle the yelp that wanted nothing more than to burst forth.

Mac was hyper focused on his partner and he saw the second that his friend needed him and tapped the mute button on the phone, preventing Riley from hearing Jacks suffering. In that moment, Mac wished that he had his own mute button, that he hadn't been subjected to watching and hearing his friends suffering for the last three days.

He took it back immediately when he thought about the alternative. He couldn't bare to think about how awful and helpless he would feel in Rileys shoes.

As much as he hated having to witness all the pain his partner had to endure, he wouldn't be able to live with himself knowing Jack had gone through all that alone and that there was no one there to help him when he needed it most.

Mac put his hand on his partners shoulder and waited a few moments while Jack got the pain under control.

"Mac… Jack… anyone copy?"

"Hey, we lost you for a moment there, must be a bad connection," Mac fibbed.

Jack locked eyes with his partner, silently thanking him. Mac replied with a nod and a smirk.

It seemed like they had always had the ability to communicate that way. Often conveying with their eyes what their mouths wouldn't allow for fear of sounding unmacho.

The phone beeped signaling the battery was at ten percent. "Well shit."

"What is it Mac? Bozer asked, announcing his presence.

"Looks like I'm gonna have to cut comms, this phone is nearly dead."

"No no no, can't you come up with a way to charge it or something?"

Mac understood why his roommate was reluctant to cut off communication with him, if Bozer had been MIA for nearly four days Mac would be the same way.

"If I really have to I will, but for now, Riley can you keep an eye on satellite and call if you see any unwanted visitors headed our way?"

"You got it, Mac."

"Alright we will be home soon." Mac ended the call and turned his focus back to his partner, who was having a difficult time keeping his eyes open, each blink was getting longer and slower.

He was afraid if Jack passed out again he might not wake up the next time.

"What do you say we get you off this concrete?"

"Kay." Jack answered.

Mac put his arm under Jacks shoulders and slowly lifted him up to sitting, his breath caught when the gunshot wound pulled painfully. "I'm sorry, buddy. Let's get you outside and comfortable, then I'll let you rest. Yeah?

Jack nodded once in agreement. Mac ducked under his arm, then slowly stood.

Jack groaned, he was so cold, his whole body was stiff and he ached all over, but he was with his best friend, his brother, and they were both still alive, for the moment at least.

To be continued...


	16. Chapter 16

**Again I'm sorry this was another long wait. I've been going through a rough patch the past few months. Thank you to those who have taken the time to leave a nice review, I really appreciate them. I've only had one that wasn't very nice so that's not too bad I suppose. Thank you to Lifeart for being my beta, without you I'm sure I would have more than one negative review.**

Jack was trying as hard as he could just to put one foot in front of the other. His legs felt disconnected from his body, like they were someone else's. He kept having to look down to make sure they were still moving.

They were about halfway to their destination when Jack's legs gave out. His body had had enough and refused to support him anymore.

The sudden shift in weight nearly brought both of the agents down, Mac kept his shoulder under Jacks arm and pivoted to catch his friend under his other arm.

"Woah woah woah, I got you buddy, I got you." Mac grunted out under the new strain.

"Mm sorry Mac." Jack said guiltily. He hated how weak and pathetic he felt. He had prided himself on his ability to power through injuries, even gunshot wounds, until the job was done. Not to mention, it made the kid more vulnerable.

"Hey man, it's alright. We are almost there, you ready?"

"I can't," Jack paused for a couple quick breaths, "move my legs."

The look of fear in Jack's eyes broke Mac's heart, he just hoped Jack couldn't see the fear he was feeling at the revelation "We're almost there buddy, don't worry I got you, okay?" Mac said with renewed resolve.

If he carried him fireman style it would wreak havoc on his gunshot and knife wounds and there is no way Jack would let him carry him bridal style even in his weakened state. He settled for the backpack carry, he moved his arm that was around Jack's back to the front to grasp his arm above the makeshift bandage, next he slid in front of his friend to grab onto Jacks other arm. He leaned forward slightly, taking on his partners weight, then started walking slowly. Jack's boots drug the floor behind them.

The older agent squeezed his eyes shut and tried to block out the burning stabbing pains. The positioning of his arms tugged at the wounds on his side and the infected knife wound in his shoulder. He tried desperately to hold in any sounds of discomfort as he didn't want his friend to have to listen to his pain anymore, not if he could help it.

He laid his head down to ease the pressure he felt building in his neck and shoulders, his bruised cheek came to rest on the back of his friends neck.

"Hey man you still with me?" Mac asked nervously.

"Mm here," Jack answered. He could hear the worry in the kid's voice and hated that he was the reason for it. Suddenly a small grin appeared on his face. He had thought of a way to relieve a bit of that worry even with the fuzzy state of his mind.

Mac was just about to ask if Jack was still awake again when he heard him start to hum. The younger agent let out of breath he hadn't realized he was holding and smiled for the first in what felt like forever.

Years ago, during their time in Afghanistan, Jack had come up with this game where one person would hum a song and the other had to guess the name of the song before the song finished, if the song was guessed then that person would hum a song and so on until one player was stumped. Jack said it was to help with his aversion to boredom, but Mac had noticed his friend only played it when Mac was hurt and needed a distraction or to get Mac out of his own head particularly when he was beating himself up.

Jacks humming was quiet and broken up by numerous breathing pauses but Mac still figured out what song it was about twenty seconds in, but selfishly he wanted to feel the reassuring vibrations of his partners humming, that meant his friend was still alive and with him.

"Sweet Child of Mine, Guns and Roses." Mac stated, finally reaching the makeshift cot just outside the warehouse.

"Yeah," Jack replied hoarsely.

Mac turned to lower Jack down to the truck bench seat, moving as slowly as possible in an attempt to avoid jostling his friend. His efforts proved to be in vain when Jack let out a yelp which followed by a sharp intake of breath and moaning.

Mac quickly helped lower his friend to a sitting position on the cushioned seat and hovered in front of him not sure where to touch or how to help the man.

The older agent tried to push the pain down and catch his breath, which was proving to be more and more difficult. His side was on fire. To say it burned and ached was an understatement. He was exhausted and tired of all the pain. He didn't have the strength to push the pain to a more tolerable level anymore.

"What happened? Where are you hurting?" Mac questioned, anxiously trying to help him.

"It's my side… agh," Jack responded through clenched teeth.

"I'm going to help you lay on your back so I can take a look, okay? Jack nodded.

Mac put his arm behind Jack's neck and lowered him onto his back, then he picked up his legs and moved them up onto the bench seat.

He was scared he could feel himself getting weaker. He didn't want to die, but he always knew it was a possibility every time he went out in the field. He didn't fear death, but he was afraid of Mac witnessing the event, the kid had already lost so many loved ones in his short life.

Mac knelt next to his friend and raised up his shirt and loosened the belt to inspect the wounds on his side.

The knife wound above his hip looked awful, it oozed pus and was obviously infected. Blood still trickled from the gunshot wound and the flesh around it was red and angry looking.

"I'm gonna put some pressure on this and try to stop the bleeding." Mac said apprehensively.

Mac stood and placed his knee beside Jacks waist then leaned over to push down with his body weight on the wound, locking his elbows.

Jack screamed.

Macs insides twisted and his throat tightened. He had heard his partner scream a lot these last few days, but he had never been the cause of it.

Jacks head was thrown back, his teeth clenched, and moaning in obvious misery.

"Jack… I'm sorry buddy, but I have to do this… I'm so sorry. Mac Apologized, the building moisture in his eyes threatened to breach the dam. He desperately wished he could take the pain off of his friends face.

Suddenly it dawned on him that it was his turn. Maybe it would help distract Jack the same way it did with him.

He cleared his throat and started to hum the song he chose.

To be continued...


	17. Chapter 17

**I wasn't one hundred percent satisfied with parts of this chapter so I came back and spent more time on it. Let me know what you all think. Thank you for all the reviews, favorites, and follows they are very much appreciated. Thank you Mr. Brown the guest who wrote exactly what I had needed to hear! You all have been so nice! Lifeart, you are awesome! Thank you for correcting my many punctuation errors!**

Every breath hurt. The only thing Jack was aware of was pain.

Mac's partner gently shook beneath his outstretched arms. Every moan and groan from Jack felt like a physical blow. Even though he knew that putting pressure on the wound was helping to stop the bleeding, he would never forgive himself for the pain he was causing his friend.

Jack thought he heard his friends voice, but he couldn't be sure, due to the roaring in his ears. He forced his eyes open, only managing to raise them halfway, blinking slowly to clear the haze and recognized the look on his partners face immediately. He knew it well, he had seen it many times. Guilt was clearly written on the younger agent's face.

The kid quickly bent his head and swiped the side of his face along his sleeve to remove the evidence of tears. He couldn't hide the tell tale red puffy appearance of his eyes though. Mac had been crying. 'Shit...I must've really scared him.'

He heard the soft humming then and forced himself to focus on his best friend.

The tune gave him something else to hone in on instead of the raging monster of pain that threatened to consume him.

"Ha… real funny… Lean On Me… Bill Withers," Jack forced out, his voice shaky. He tried to smile, but it came across more like a grimace. Every pause contained more grunts and gasps for air.

"I thought you would appreciate the twisted humor in my choice," Mac smiled wryly.

"Alright… I've got one…" Jack had heard the song Brother, by the band NeedToBreathe, awhile back and had instantly thought of Mac.

Jack's pained grunts and gasps made it hard to listen to his friend struggle through the first few verses.

It seemed as though it was becoming harder and harder for him to get enough air. The frequent shallow breaths told Mac that his friend was running out of time.

"You win, I definitely have never heard that song before," Mac admitted in defeat. He cut him off before he finished the song partly because he didn't want Jack to have to struggle so much for air and also because he knew he had never heard it before. "Who is it by?" Mac asked, genuinely curious.

"Needtobreath" Jack answered.

"Oh, I'm sorry, man. You're right, you should take a break for awhile and catch your breath." Mac apologized.

"No no..." Jack said flashing a smile. "That's the name... of the band... The song was Brother... by… by Needtobreathe."

"Oh…" Mac replied sheepishly. "I think it's time I check on the wound, okay?"

Jack answered with a nod.

Mac let off some pressure, Jack reached out simultaneously to grasp his partners wrist, albeit somewhat weakly, and locked pleading eyes with his partner. "Hurts," Jack uttered, desperate for Mac to help him.

Macs heart clenched at the admission. Jack wasn't the type to admit he was hurting.

It was as if the steady weight applied to the wound had somewhat numbed the injured nerves, so when Mac had begun removing said weight, those nerves woke back up again, with vengeance. Even though he knew his best friend wasn't actually ripping off his skin, his pain receptors were convinced otherwise.

"I'm sorry big guy, I'll slow it down a bit."

Jack's gaze was that of complete trust, a trust that Mac didn't necessarily feel like he deserved at the moment.

Another long drawn out pained growl ripped from Jack's throat, and he was left panting in its wake. His eyes were unfocused and his head rolled from side to side listlessly.

The fresh misery sucked the air from his lungs. He couldn't pull it back in fast enough. Burgeoning panic sprouted in his chest as his vision started to blur.

"Jack, hey buddy, I need you to try to slow down your breathing. Take a few deep breaths for me, okay?" Jack, still oblivious to his requests, didn't respond.

Mac cupped the sides of his friends bruised and bloodied face. "Dammit Jack listen to me!"

His partners plea seeped into his conscious and deep brown eyes locked onto bright blue ones. He felt Jack's grip tighten on his wrist and watched as he worked to gain control over his breathing again.

"That's it big guy, slow and easy." His partners respirations were nowhere near slow and easy, but they were better and that's the best he could hope for until his friend received medical attention.

Mac carefully lifted the blood soaked cloth that served as a bandage. Relief flooded through him. "Thank God! It's stopped bleeding." Mac exhaled a breath he had been holding and smiled down at his friend.

Jack could feel his life fading. He knew if their ride didn't show soon it would be too late. He let go of his friend's wrist and reached for his hand and Mac took it without hesitation.

"Thanks kid," Jack rasped.

"For what?" Mac asked, furrowing his brow.

"For ev-... everything," His expression was serious.

"You would do the same for me. Hell, you have done the same for me."

"I thank the man upstairs everyday... that he gave me you. I love you brother," A tear slipped out of the corner of his eye and disappeared into the salt and pepper hair at his temple. Jack's voice broke at the wounded look in his best friends eyes.

White hot anger flared when Mac realized what the older agent was doing.

"Don't you dare say goodbye to me!" Mac responded vehemently.

He could feel the fear of losing Jack wrapping its tendrils through his chest and around his throat, strangling him. "A long time ago you promised me you wouldn't leave me like everyone else important in my life - you promised me Jack!"

His voice had started out just above a whisper, softened by the stricken expression on his friends face, then rose in volume to get the point across. His vision blurred, he hadn't even realized he had been crying until then.

He knew he was being irrational, that Jack wasn't purposefully trying to leave him, but he didn't care. He felt like that scared little five year old boy again. If Jack died his heart wouldn't just break, it would shatter.

"I know kid... and there is no way… I would leave you… not as long as I have a say. You know that," Jack gave the kids hand a little squeeze.

"I know," Mac said softly, dropping his head down. He knew Jack wouldn't ever leave him if he had a choice. His mom didn't have a choice either and he missed her fiercely.

The ringing in his pocket snapped his attention back to the present situation.

"Riley how much longer to exfil?"

"It's about ten minutes out Mac, but there's a problem. I've got eyes on your location and I see four trucks headed your way."

"How long until they get here?" Mac questioned, his nerves on edge.

"They are about five minutes out Mac."

To be continued...


	18. Chapter 18

**I'm alive! I know it has been forever since I updated, but I promise I will update again soon! Everyone that reviewed, followed, favorited and pm'd thank you so much it means so much to me! Also happy Mother's Day to the Mothers out there. Btw, what did y'all think about the season finale? Thank always to the wonderful Lifeart for being my beta! All remaining mistakes are mine.**

Jack watched that familiar look wash over his partners face as his mind switched into high gear. Mac never failed to amaze him with that big beautiful brain of his: it didn't seem to matter what was going on or how dire their situation was, the kid always thought of a way to save their hides.

"Looks like it's time… to do your thing brother," Jack put on a smile and gave Mac's hand a firm squeeze in an attempt to reassure the young agent.

"Riley keep him talking, while I get ready for our guests." Mac put the phone on speaker and laid it next to his friend. He covered the speaker with his free hand and locked eyes with his partner. "Don't die on me Jack… please," Mac stated pleadingly.

"You know me, Bud… I ain't the… quittin' type," Jack replied, offering him the best cocky grin he could muster.

Mac noticed Jack's shivering had gotten worse, so he took off his leather jacket and laid it over his friend. Mac hesitated a moment longer, still reluctant to leave him, then he rushed off into the warehouse.

'What if those were Jack's last words? What if… dammit! What the hell is my problem!' Mac chastised himself for the direction his mind had taken. Stressing out over 'what if's' sure as hell wasn't going to help his best friend.

Besides, the quicker he got done, the quicker he could get back to Jack.

He roughly shoved his hands through his hair, desperately trying to force his brain to function properly. Patches of dried blood had made his hair stiff.

'That's more like it.' Mac thought to himself as a plan began hatching. He dashed around the warehouse gathering up everything he would need to make it work.

Once he had the items required for phase one of his plan, he broke the window, on the far side of the large room, away from the loading dock and his partner. Mac poured the concoction of combustible agents on two of the nearby wooden crates. Lifting one of the crates he slid it out the window, then he ran to the truck to hunt for an ignition source.

The truck had a cigarette lighter so he pushed it in and waited for it to heat up. His attention landed on the bound and still unconscious bad guy, with everything that had happened in the last hour, Mac had completely forgotten about the man. He would need to get him clear of the warehouse.

The lighter popped up signaling it was ready. He ran back to the window and without hesitation he reached outside the broken pane and touched the glowing red hot end to the wooden crate outside. With a whoosh, fire engulfed the entire crate. Mac shoved the second crate so only the end was exposed outside the window.

Flames licked the underside of the crate until it too was blanketed in fire. Mac needed the first part of his plan to be more incendiary than explosive. Hopefully some or all of the bad guys would focus their attention on trying to extinguish the fire and they stay far away from Mac and Jack, buying the agents those precious minutes needed for their chopper to arrive.

Mac required explosives for the next phase of his plan, the more boom the better. He had already located a box of land mines, which would be perfect for taking out any trucks that came up the road. He grabbed a nearby ammo bag and loaded as many as it would hold.

"Jack…can you tell me what your dad was like?" Riley had only heard an occasional story about Jack's father, she had never broached the subject before because of the sadness it brought to his eyes.

Jack smiled as he imagined what it might've looked like if the two of them had met and known each other. "You are a lot… like him actually... he was real sharp… witty, funny… and a bit ornery. He would've... loved you."

Jack got lost in thought picturing the two of them mischievously conspiring against him and laughing together at his expense.

Riley grew concerned the longer the silence grew. "Jack, you still with me?"

"I just wish... you could have… known him, Ri. He was... a good man… one of… the best."

"So are you, Jack," Riley stated without hesitation.

The lump that formed in his throat robbed him of the ability to speak until it dissipated. "Hey Ri?"

"Yeah?" Riley answered.

"If I don't… make it back… I ne-"

"No Jack! Don't talk like that! You are going to be fine! You have to be… " Riley demanded.

"Listen, honey… if I die… the only family… Mac will have left… is you and Boze. When he's hurtin'… he can get a little… self destructive… just be… there for m'... kay?"

"Of course I will, Jack. Just hold on a little longer, okay? Help is al-" The phone went silent and the screen turned black as the last remaining battery drained from the device. Jack felt like the same thing was happening to him, but instead of a battery it was his life. 'If only it were as simple as plugging into an outlet to get "charged" full of life again.'

"Dammit! No!" Riley shouted at the large monitor on the wall in the war room. She desperately tried to re-establish the connection to no avail. Bozer walked up behind her and placed his hand on her shoulder. The usually tough as nails hacker dropped her face into her hands and broke down.

To be continued…


	19. Chapter 19

**This chapter is dedicated to my beta Lifeart, happy belated birthday dear! Thank you to everyone who have reviewed, favorited, and followed. The guest Maximoose your review made my week thank you! All remaining mistakes are mine. I hope you all enjoy.**

Jack heard his partner growl with exertion from inside the warehouse. The growl was followed by the sound of gravel crunching under boots. "Mac, you okay?"

"Yeah buddy, just had to get this guy outta the way." Mac lowered the man he had just drug free of the warehouse to the ground, before he rushed over to his partners side.

Mac's heart clenched as he took in the sight of his friend. 'Had he looked that bad a few minutes ago?' The blood, cuts, and bruises stood out in stark contrast against his pale skin. His abused cracked lips were parted slightly, allowing the too rapid too shallow puffs of air through. The tremors had subsided, but his eyes seemed to be having trouble staying open.

He laid his hand on Jacks shoulder, unconsciously trying to impart some of his own strength into his partner. "Almost done big guy, just gotta leave these surprises in the road, then I'll be right back."

"Be careful," Jack rasped.

"Always," Mac said with a smirk. He gave Jack's shoulder a reassuring squeeze and took off.

Mac jogged up to the side of the concrete building to peer around the corner. He quickly stole a glance around the side. "Oh crap!" Mac muttered to himself. Three of the trucks were headed to the fire, but one was headed his way.

Mac armed the mines and placed them in the road as quickly as he could. He had to get back to Jack and get them both to a more concealed location ASAP.

As soon as the last mine was in position and armed he sprinted back to his best friend. His heart hammered away in his chest and thundered in his ears. "Hey buddy, we gotta move, we are about to have company," The younger agent informed anxiously.

Jack picked up on the hint of fear in the kid's voice and he ineffectively tried to push his friend away. "Get yourself to cover, Mac," He tried to speak in his most authoritative tone, but it came out weak and breathless.

The blond shook his head emphatically from side to side. "Not a chance!"

With unshed tears in his eyes, the former Delta tried again. This time he dropped his voice and the heartfelt plea was saturated with emotion. "Angus, please…there's no time."

Mac swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. "You're right, there is no time to argue. I'm not gonna leave you." He was equally heartwarmed with Jack's selflessness as he was pissed at his lack of self preservation.

"You really should know me better than that by now," Mac added.

Jack did know his partner wouldn't ever leave him behind, but he had to at least try. He would never forgive himself if his brother got hurt or worse trying to save him.

Mac slipped an arm under his friends shoulders and the other arm under Jack's knees. Spurred on by the sounds of the truck getting closer, he lifted the larger man and started towards the cover of trees he had spotted behind the warehouse.

Jack groaned and gritted his teeth. Every step sent bolts of sharp pain shooting throughout his body, even his skin hurt. Unconsciousness beckoned him like a sirens fatally sweet song and he desperately wanted to give in, if only for the promise of a brief respite from the pain. He felt his eyes grow heavier.

Mac was certain his heart stopped when he saw his friend's eyes slide shut and felt his body go limp. "Jack! don't do this to me man! Jack!" His heart constricted painfully. They were a few more steps away from the concealment the trees offered. Mac couldn't tell if Jack was breathing. 'God please let him be alive.' He begged silently.

A loud explosion blew behind them just as they reached the cover of the trees. Mac didn't even spare a glance at the wreckage, instead he knelt with his cargo behind a tree. He kept the former Delta's head cradled in the crook of his left arm and placed his partner's bottom half on the ground to free up his right. Then he pressed his shaking index and middle fingers to the pulse point on Jack's neck. Mac choked out a sob of relief. The pulse was there, it was faint, but it was there.

"Jack… I need you to fight. Okay, brother? I need you..." Mac choked out, his voice breaking. He wasn't the type who felt comfortable talking about his feelings, but he had to make sure Jack knew how important he was to him.

"We might not have had the best beginning, but I would have never made it out of the Sandbox if it weren't for you. You saved my life in more ways than one, I hope you realize that. Most importantly you've shown me that real family never abandons." Mac closed his eyes and his shoulders slumped, suddenly he felt completely drained. "I wish you were my dad," Mac said in a whisper.

"Me too kid," Jack answered hoarsely.

Mac's eyes snapped open in surprise. He found Jack's half lidded gaze focused on him. Mac let out breath he didn't realize he was holding. "Jack! Thank God! Don't do that again!" Mac demanded.

"Sorry brother, I didn't… mean to," Jack rasped.

Mac winced at the sound of Jack's voice, it sounded painful. The bruises on Jack's throat were starting to darken. He didn't feel sorry that the man that put them there was dead.

Mac's head popped up, suddenly remembering the truck. That explosion would more than likely bring the others as well.

The truck lay on its side and one of the passengers was currently crawling out of the shattered glass window on the passenger side. In the distance he could hear the rumble of another truck getting closer.

"Where the hell is our ride?" Mac said through clenched teeth.

His attention returned to his partner when he felt Jack's body tense. A groan escaped and his jaw clamped tightly shut in a grim smile. "Anything I can do?" Mac asked sympathetically. The feeling of helplessness washed over him again.

"It's nothing," Jack gritted out and turned his head towards the road.

Mac rolled his eyes but didn't say anything.

"Here comes… more of em'," Jack stated forlornly.

The former Delta felt around his waistband for his borrowed gun. "Mac, ple-"

"I put it in this bag," Mac interrupted, already knowing what his partner was going to ask. He reached into the bag to hand over the weapon.

"Oh, good… I feel… naked without it," The older agent said relieved. He took the gun and pulled the slide back to check his ammo. Satisfied he let the gun rest in his grasp across his chest and turned his head back towards the road.

The truck they had been hearing came around the corner followed by another truck. They both stopped several feet behind the destroyed vehicle and proceeded to climb out. There were two guys in the first truck and three in the second. All of them appeared to be carrying assault rifles.

They helped the one who had crawled out of the flipped truck to his feet and cautiously made their way towards the warehouse. One of the men spotted the bound man Mac had drug free from the building and jogged to his side. He pulled a knife from his boot and sliced through the restraints, then roused the unconscious man by gently shaking him and patting the side of his face.

Mac just watched and prayed the helicopter would arrive soon. It was only a matter of time before these guys found them.

"Aggggggh!" Jack groaned again arching his back slightly. 'This is it.' Jack thought to himself. He could feel it. He was terrified and heartbroken that Mac was going to have to watch.

Fearful hurt brown eyes met concerned blue ones. "Mac," Jack uttered shakily.

"Hold on brother, just a little bit longer," Mac forced the words out through the tightening in his throat. The look on his partner's face felt like a punch to his gut. Jack was dying right before his eyes and he couldn't do a damn thing.

Jack let go of the gun on his chest and grasp the front of Mac's shirt. His eyes felt like lead weights as he fought to keep them open.

Just then the young agent heard the most beautiful sound off in the distance. It was the sound of a helicopter. "Hey, you hear that big guy? The calvary's comin'!" Mac exclaimed with a grin.

"Mac," Jack said in a weak whisper. His breathing started to slow and his eyelids drooped closed then opened halfway only to close again. Jack's hand unclenched from Mac's shirt and fell to his side. His head rolled to the side to rest against his friends upper arm.

"No no no no no! Jack! Jack please!" Mac pleaded. His partner was still breathing, but only just.

The noise of the approaching chopper seemed to make Sinclairs hired goons a little jumpy. They filed out of the warehouse holding their rifles pulled tight against their shoulders and ready to fire whenever a threat presented itself.

One of the mercenaries suddenly pointed in the agents' direction and yelled to his friends to follow. 'Shit, of course they had been spotted.' The last truck chose that moment to join the others.

Before the occupants could get out of the truck a loud whoosh whistled by and the truck exploded. The blackhawk's missile had found its mark and reduced the truck to a smoldering pile of unrecognizable mangled metal.

The gunner wasted no time firing the mounted .50 cal at Sinclair's men. Those who weren't hit scattered and scrambled for cover.

Mac slid his arm under Jack's knees once more and hoisted the unconscious man up to his chest.

The chopper landed in a clearing about thirty yards from their position. Two men in flight suits, probably the medics, jogged towards him. The gunner stayed in the Blackhawk and laid down cover fire.

Mac faltered just as the medics reached them.

"Alright, Sir, we can take him from here."

"I've got him!" Mac snapped out harshly.

The two medics held up their hands in surrender. "I know you guys have been through hell these past few days and I can understand why you might have difficulty trusting anyone, but you have to believe me, we are only here to help."

Mac nodded and allowed the two men to help him get Jack in the helicopter.

To be continued...


	20. Chapter 20

**For everyone who has stuck with this story and my slow updates, I truly am grateful for the continued support. Thank you for the kind reviews, fav's, follows, and pm's. Those reviews and messages really are a writers fuel! I never knew how important they were until I started writing. That's right, I'm not proud, I'll beg for them if I have to. ;) Here's chapter twenty, I hope you all enjoy. Lifeart, you are amazing as always! Thank you for correcting the many mistakes you find. All remaining mistakes are mine.**

The medics were a flurry of activity, once inside the aircraft. One was taking vitals while the other established the IV and began the transfusion. The younger man kept ahold of Jack's hand, refusing to break contact with his partner.

They attached the heart monitor to the Delta's finger and Mac watched it, willing the beats to strengthen and even out. As if to spite the Phoenix agent, the machine showed the opposite. Instead of strengthening like he wished, the white line that signaled the beats with a slanted letter N became erratic, taking on a wave like pattern. "He's in V Fib!" the medic stated, sharing a nervous look with the other medic.

"Sir, we need you to let go," the voice from one of the medics finally filtered through to Mac. Not fully understanding the request, the blond furrowed his brow.

"Agent MacGyver, we need you to stand clear so we can shock your partner and try to get a normal rhythm."

Mac nodded and released Jack's hand. He immediately missed the contact.

The AED counted down and delivered a shock. Jack's back arched with the current, then went still.

They all watched the monitor intensely, first one beat then another. The small glimmer of relief at the sight of those two beats vanished when that line flattened out.

A continuous beep sounded, confirming what the young agent was seeing. His best friends heart had stopped. That beep sucked all the air from his lungs. This wasn't happening… this couldn't be happening.

The medic, who had spoken to him, didn't waste any time and started compressions, the other one pulled a ventilator bag from his med kit and sealed the mask over Jack's mouth and nose.

Mac wanted to scream, he wanted to hit something or someone. He wanted to hunt down everyone that ever knew that bastard Sinclair and make them pay for allowing his existence.

"Push one of epi," The medic, manually pumping Jack's heart, ordered.

Mac's heart constricted painfully and tears pooled in his bright blue eyes. "Jack," Mac choked out brokenly. "I- I can't lose him," he stammered, practically begging the men to bring his best friend back, though his eyes never left Jack's face.

The medic, operating the vent bag, glanced up and offered him a look full of compassion.

Mac nearly snapped back at him that he didn't need his pity, that if one person could make it through everything they had been subjected to the last few days it would be Jack.

The medic doing compressions paused for his cohort to administer the two rescue breaths and watched the heart monitor which remained unchanged. He shook his head and they shared a look of disappointment.

Mac's jaw dropped slightly as he took in the scene before him. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. They were giving up on him.

The blond slid over on his knees and pushed the medic out of the way so he could take over doing compressions. "He would never give up on me, I'm not giving up on him."

The medic dared not interfere with the stalwart agent. Even though he thought Jack was a lost cause he had heard about some of the duo's exploits and knew the two were close, more like family than partners. In his line of work, he often saw just how difficult these situations were for the survivor, most of them being plagued with suffocating guilt and what if's.

Mac never thought, not even in his worst nightmares, that he would have to do this for Jack, never. He found the spot two fingers above the xiphoid process and started compressions.

The sticky pads of the AED picked up Mac's compressions letting him know he was pushing hard enough to pump blood through his partner's body.

The first crack of Jack's ribs, or their cartilage, Mac felt rather than heard in the noisy chopper. Although he knew it was a sign of good solid compressions, he cringed as it made him queasy. If he had had anything to eat recently he was sure it would have made a reappearance.

Sweat beaded on his brow and disturbed the tiny hairs on his back as drops rolled down. His muscles burned and ached. Exertion along with the sharp pains from his broken rib made it difficult to breathe. He ignored all of it. Nothing was going to stop him from trying to bring his brother back.

"27, 28, 29, 30," the blond called out loud enough for the medic across from him to hear in the noisy chopper. The young agent cupped both sides of his friend's face, while the rescue breaths were administered. "Jack! Come on man… Jack, please don't do this to me!" Mac had leaned in close and spoke the last part just to his friend.

He half expected Jack to open his eyes and tell him not to worry because he was fine, but he didn't.

"1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7-" Something between a cough and a choking sound came from Jack followed by a gasp. Mac stopped compressions and watched the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, Jack's heart beating again.

Jack's head rolled to the side as he coughed weakly. The look of stunned disbelief showed on the medics' faces and it took a few seconds before they sprung back into action.

Mac moved up closer to Jack's head and allowed the medic he replaced to have his position back. "Jack… hey man, talk to me." An oxygen cannula was placed under Jack's nose as Mac tried to rouse him.

"Hey buddy, open your eyes for me." Mac said while gently patting the side of Jack's face. Slowly chocolate brown eyes cracked open. His unfocused gaze found Mac and the older agent's brows pulled together slightly.

"Papa," Jack said in his fever induced confusion. Mac knew all too well how infections played cruel tricks on the mind.

Jack's breath hitched and he winced when he tried to take a deep breath. The blond felt a twinge of guilt as he knew his compressions were most likely the cause. The pain must have helped clear some of the confusion because recognition sparked in Jack's eyes. "Mac," a small smile played on his lips.

"Yeah big guy, it's me," Mac answered and moved his hand from the side of his partner's face to grasp his hand.

Jack squeezed his eyes shut. A low groan passed his lips.

"Can you give him something for the pain?"

The medic next to Mac shook his head. "I think the risk outweighs the need. We have morphine, but it could suppress his breathing and he is having enough trouble with that as it is."

Mac nodded in reply. "Where are we going and how long until we arrive?" he asked anxiously.

"We are headed to a hospital in Mardin, Turkey. We should arrive soon, I'll check with the pilot." The medic finished hanging another blood bag then put on a headset and asked the pilot their ETA. "Seven to ten minutes," The pilot responded.

"Almost there brother," Mac said, offering a reassuring smile. Jack was still out of it and didn't acknowledge that Mac had spoken.

Mac lifted Jack's head a bit and placed a hand underneath to keep his head more stabilized.

As he looked at his partner's blood crusted face, anger bubbled up inside him, burning in his gut. Jack had been beat up before, but never like this. Sinclair and his goons had yanked away his security blanket. His belief that no bad guy could get the best of the former Delta was challenged as Jack lay there and his life hung in the balance.

Finally the Blackhawk started its descent onto the hospital helicopter landing pad.

Mac felt a squeeze on his hand and looked down to his friend. To his surprise Jack's eyes were focused on him.

"I'll be okay, brother," Jack rasped.

"You better be," Mac stated, with no humor in his expression.

Jack gave him a fond smile before it disappeared into a grimace. He coughed weakly and moaned as he squeezed his eyes shut.

Mac gently wiped a tear that escaped from his friends eye with his thumb.

His knees were stiff from kneeling on the chopper floor. It took a bit more effort than he wanted to admit to get them working again. He helped the medic's carry Jack to the gurney a few feet away.

While the nurses arranged Jack and hung the IV bags to the pole attached to the hospital bed, one of the medics patted his shoulder from behind and said, "Director Webber set up cover I.D's for you both and she sent in a top surgeon for your partner. He's one tough dude, he'll pull through." The medic offered a comforting smile and handed the Phoenix agent a small bag containing lira, their cover passports, and other necessary documents. Mac nodded and sprinted to catch up to his best friend, who was being rushed to the entrance of the hospital, a short distance away. Once he caught up, one hand went on the back of gurney, urging it forward, and the other one settled on his partner's shoulder. Jack responded by tilting his head towards him.

Even though Jack was a little out of it, he felt the warm hand on his shoulder and took comfort in the knowledge Mac was by his side.

To be continued...

If you were curious about the AED and CPR section, I am no doctor, but I have been CPR certified and recertified several times and I was always told a shock from a defibrillator will not restart a heart. Defibrillators help regulate irregular heart beats. We can thank Hollywood for continually perpetuating that falsehood. If you are a medical expert and disagree please feel free to pm me and correct me.


	21. Chapter 21

**I had know idea when I started this story that it would have taken me so loooong to get to this point. It has kind of taken on a life of its own and just keeps growing. A huge thank you to the kind reviews, pm's, follows, and favorites. Each time I get a notification about a new review, I do a happy dance. Also a huge shout out to Lifeart for helping me get better with each chapter.**

As they neared the double doors with the Turkish words Ameliyat Odası (operating theater) written on them, Mac knew he wouldn't be allowed to go back there. He looked down at his partner, who was unconscious again. Each of Jack's breaths fogged up the clear plastic oxygen mask, that had been placed on him when they arrived.

"We've made it this far, big guy don't give up on me now." Mac gave Jack's shoulder a gentle squeeze and watched him disappear through the double doors.

Mac sat in the waiting room, the unspent adrenaline caused his hands to shake, he lowered his head into his hands and let the heft still them.

He knew the risks he took with this job and accepted them, but this wasn't supposed to happen to the people he cared about. This wasn't supposed to happen to Jack.

With nothing to distract him, the weight of everything that had happened in the last few days started to come crashing down on him. His subconscious kicked in and shoved each of the otherwise debilitating emotions and memories into their own box to be dealt with later, if at all.

Some of the memories started to knife through the barrier. Jack was drowning, choking under the steady stream of water. Sinclair twisting the knife in Jack's side, Jack screaming, he had never seen his friend in so much pain. Jack's blood, too much blood.

Mac squeezed his eyes shut tighter with each painful memory. His tried and true method of compartmentalism had failed him, and as his breath quickened, he felt the room start closing in, suffocating him.

In an attempt to stave off what could only be the beginnings of a panic attack, the young agent pushed himself to stand up, forcing his brain to focus on moving his body instead.

"Excuse me, are you Mr. Harper?" Asked a woman in pale green scrubs.

Mac hesitated long enough to glance around the waiting room. He mentally kicked himself for not looking at the documents Matty had sent. There was only one other person there and they didn't look like they would have an English surname, so he took the chance and replied, "Yes, I am."

"Hello sir, I am the surgical assistant to Dr. Costas and I came to deliver an update on the condition of your father." The woman's accent held a distinct Greek intonation.

Mac felt the pit in his stomach grow with the uncertainty he felt, and his hands trembled along with his voice when he spoke. "How is he?

"We continued the transfusion and he was given five pints of blood total. His vitals improved a great deal and Dr. Costas was able to remove the bullet. She is currently performing debridements to the two infected knife wounds," the woman informed him, "Your father will be moved to the intensive care unit to start antibiotics. He has a very serious infection, but as long as no complications arise, we think he will recover just fine."

Mac choked out the breath he had been holding, then stepped over to the chairs to plop down in one. His legs suddenly felt weak and wobbly.

"Your father has a very strong will, I've never seen someone survive so much blood loss before," the assistant stated with a look of awe on her face.

"Yes, he does," Mac agreed with a smile. "Will you notify me when I can see him?

"Yes, as long as he stays stable in the recovery room, he will be moved to the ICU and you can visit him there," The nurse nodded in the affirmative.

"Thank you so much for keeping me updated. I've been going crazy out here," Mac said sincerely. He took a deep breath for the first time in what seemed like forever. The fear and uncertainty that had gripped him so fiercely had begun to loosen its hold on him.

"No problem, Mr. Harper." She offered a kind smile with her reply and turned to go back to the operating room.

Mac rubbed his face, wincing when his fingers came in contact with the cuts on his cheek. He had forgotten about them. He must look a sight.

He looked down at his hands and saw dried blood surrounding his nail beds. His stomach turned over when he realized it was from his best friend. The image of him pushing down on Jack's gunshot wound as hard as he could and the sound of his partner's screams of pain flooded in unbidden. He stood and walked quickly to the restroom. He scrubbed at his hands until he couldn't see the blood anymore.

The last thing he needed right now was to be reminded of the pain he caused his partner. He already felt guilty for Sinclair focusing most of his sadistic attention on Jack. If only he hadn't shown how much Jack meant to him, then maybe his friend wouldn't have been hurt so badly. He shook his head from side to side trying to put that line of thinking out of his mind, but as much as he wished he could, he couldn't change what happened to Jack.

He stepped out into the waiting room and found that Dr. Costa's assistant was waiting for him. "Hello again, Mr. Harper. We've arranged a private room for your father on the intensive care floor. If you want to get cleaned up while you wait for us to bring him up, the room has a shower."

"That would be great, thank you."

Mac followed as the nurse led the way to the private room in the intensive care unit.

She stopped outside the door and handed him a navy pair of scrub pants and a white t-shirt.

Mac lifted the new set of clothes slightly to indicate them. "Thanks again." He couldn't wait to wash the stink of Sinclair's prison off him.

He turned the water on as hot as he could stand it. While he waited for the water to heat up he shucked his clothes and threw each article in the trash.

The water felt amazing on his skin. It was as if it was melting away layers of tension between his shoulders. The blond watched as streaks of red disappeared down the drain as he rinsed the crusted blood off the back of his head. He winced when his fingers came in contact with a gash back there.

'Well that explains the headache,' Mac thought to himself. His torso was decorated with blooms of purple and blue. His hands gingerly swept across them with the soap. After all the grime and blood had been rinsed off he begun to feel human again.

Just as he turned the faucet handle to the off position, there was urgent knock on the bathroom door. His heart rate quickened as he just knew something was wrong.

He quickly dressed and opened the door. "Mr. Harper can you come with me to the recovery room, please? He has been calling out for someone named "Mac" and we have had to restrain him. We've already given him the maximum safe dose of sedatives, but he won't stop trying to get up."

Mac was already out the door and running towards the surgical wing before she could finish. The nurse trailed behind and ran to catch up.

Just before they reached the door to the recovery room Mac could hear his partner's voice, and as tormented and raspy as it was, it was good to hear. Mac opened the door and rushed to Jack's side.

"You killed my friend, what makes you think I'll tell you anything, Silva?" Jack spat out.

Jack didn't have flashbacks often. Usually only serious injuries or high fevers tended to trigger them and this time Jack had both. Mac leaned over into Jack's line of sight and spoke softly. "Hey big guy, how ya doin'?"

Jack didn't even look at him, he just continued to pull at the padded restraints. Suddenly he let out a pained yelp, which was followed by a scream that sounded painfully similar to those he had heard yesterday when Sinclair had been using the picana on Jack.

'He must be reliving the time he was captured by the cartel leader Carlito Silva.' The young agent thought.

Mac reached across Jack's body and gently placed a hand on the side of his feverish face. He used his thumb to stroke near his temple, mimicking a move that Jack had used on him when Mac had been poisoned and delirious. The physical touch had helped anchor him and soothe his mind.

Jack's side ached and his insides felt like they were boiling. He really did not like electricity. Jack's thoughts returned to his partner Robbie, who was married and had a kid on the way. That baby would never meet its dad all because he couldn't protect his partner. A sob nearly escaped his lips, but he clamped down on it. He would never give Silva the satisfaction.

"Jack… hey big guy, snap out of it."

Jack's back arched as another scream was torn from his lips. "Dammit Jack, it's not real!" Mac yelled. His heart ached for his partner and not for the first time he wished he could take away the pain on Jack's face. How could he defeat an enemy he couldn't see?

Jack finally got a breather when Silva left the room for urgent business. He felt his chest heaving and pressure at his temple. He heard his name being called, but it was muted, like he was under water. He heard it again, louder this time. He felt warmth on the side of his face and blinked to try to make his eyes focus. 'I know that voice.' Jack thought. Slowly blond hair and blue eyes, that he would recognize anywhere, came into focus.

"Mac… are you real?" the older agent questioned softly.

"Yeah buddy it's me," Mac's voice wavered with emotion.

Jack suddenly looked stricken. "Please tell me that bastard didn't get you too!"

"No man. It was just a bad dream," Mac soothed. He couldn't really go into detail with so many ears around.

"But It was so real," Jack rasped.

"I know buddy, I know," Mac answered, still sliding his thumb over Jack's temple.

Jack's eyes roved around the room. "Where are we?"

"We-" Mac's answer was cut off when he heard the familiar pop pop pop of gunfire coming from somewhere in the hospital. Mac ran to the door that led out to the main hallway. "Mac, don't go out there!" Jack demanded hoarsely. Mac cracked the door open to peer out.

Eight men in tac gear were in the hall, and one had gripped a nurse by the front of her scrubs and lifted her until her toes just brushed the tile floor. He yelled at her in Arabic

"'ayn al'amrikiuwn" Where are the Americans? Mac translated quickly and his stomach dropped. 'This couldn't be happening.'

To be continued…


	22. Chapter 22

I'm sorry, again another long wait. I had nearly finished this chapter a couple weeks ago when I had fallen asleep while writing and woke up to most of the chapter gone. I felt like crying, but that wouldn't change a thing so I just pushed through and tried to rewrite it as best as I could remember. Thank you to all those that favorited, reviewed, followed, and pm'd. Y'all are so awesome! I love hearing your reviews! There is a Turkish sentence spoken in this chapter and I put the translation at the bottom. I hope you all enjoy. This is unbeta'd so I'm sorry about any mistakes you find.

"Mac, what's going on?" Jack asked, his eyes wide.

"We've gotta get out of here, now." The younger agent informed quietly and rushed back to his partner's side. "There are merc's out there looking for us and I don't think they wanna play nice."

Mac looked over to the frightened recovery nurse, who hovered near Jack's gurney. "Where does this door lead? The blonde questioned and pointed to the only other door in the room. Her facial expressions of confusion were enough to indicate that she did not speak English.

"We can get to the elevators through that door." The assistant offered hopefully.

A woman, who Mac assumed must be Jack's surgeon, spoke next. "The medflight helicopter and the pilot that brought us here should still be here. The pilot was instructed to stay in case we needed to move him to another facility." The surgeon said indicating Jack with a wave of her hand.

"Let's go." Mac urged. He unlocked the wheels on Jack's bed, while the assistant unhooked Jack's IV and the wires from the monitoring equipment, then they began pushing it and its occupant toward the door he had indicated a moment ago. The surgeon, assistant, and recovery nurse didn't hesitate in following.

Mac cracked the door open and cautiously peered through. "Wait here." He tossed over his shoulder before quietly squeezing through the door and closing it behind him. "No! Mac, son of a "Jack finished the whispered curse with a growl and began to pull at the padded restraints holding his wrists.

Jack had heard somewhere that when you have a child it's like having your heart walking around outside your body. Right now his heart was walking around out there with armed gunmen looking for it while he lay strapped to a hospital bed.

"Mr. Harper… Sir please…" The former Delta took his eyes off the door, that his friend had gone through a moment ago, when he felt a touch on his shoulder. "You need to stop pulling. You are hurting yourself." Jack ignored her and turned his attention back to the door. The exasperated assistant rolled her eyes and went to help Dr. Costas put a kit together.

'Something's wrong, the kid has been gone too long.' Jack pulled on the straps again, harder this time, using them to assist him in sitting up. Fire lanced through his middle and a groan escaped through his clenched teeth. "Take these off me." The older agent growled.

The very frazzled recovery nurse quickly moved from her lookout post, next to the cracked door, to push the injured agent back to a horizontal position. Jack tried to remain sitting, but it was embarrassingly easy for the nurse to force him back down. An involuntary yelp came out for all his effort.

Undaunted and, given his stubbornness, unable to quit, he pulled himself back up to his elbows.

"Bu adamların seni öldürmeye çalışmasına şaşmamalı inatçı amerikan." The nurse murmured, shaking her head. Mac chose that moment to come through the door.

"Jack, what the hell are you doing? You're bleeding again…" Mac uttered, with a bit more heat than he intended. The crisp white bandages contrasted sharply with the crimson blood starting to show through the gauze.

"What took you so long? I thought, I thought they had you, brother." Jack deflected.

Mac observed the lines of worry still apparent on his partner's abused face and in that moment all his frustration dissipated, his concern, on the other hand, was still very much intact.

I stranded one of the elevators on the third floor in hopes of slowing these guys down. I have the remaining elevator waiting for us. We should hurry." The young Phoenix agent motioned for the group to follow him.

Mac took one last peek through the crack in the door before pushing his friend out of the room and across the hall. The three women followed him, anxiously looking around for a threat.

Just as the surgeon stepped into the elevator gunfire erupted and slammed into the metal of the elevator wall. Mac frantically punched the door close button repeatedly, even though he knew it wouldn't make it close any sooner. The bullets peppered the closing doors then the gunfire ceased once they were closed.

Jack raised his hands as far as the straps would allow. "Mac, you gotta get these off me." Jack pled. "As long as you don't do anything stupid. Mac replied. "Who, me? Never." Jack shot back in mock innocence. "I'm serious, Jack!" The blonde scolded. "I know kid. I don't think I could get off this bed if my life depended on it. I'm just a little sick of restraints is all." Jack confessed.

The young Phoenix agent sighed and let his shoulders drop. "Oh man, Jack I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking." He felt like such a jerk as he loosened the first wrist strap and saw blood starting to show through the white gauze. Sinclairs zip ties had cut deep into his wrists and the pulling Jack had done during his flashback had opened them back up again. Jack winced as Mac pulled the leather strap out of the buckle. "Sorry." he mouthed to his friend.

"Thank you." Jack said horsley as the other one fell away.

The doors on the elevator opened announcing their arrival on the fifth floor.

"Hurry tell the pilot to fire up the engines." Mac ordered no one in particular.

The blonde slid the red button, on the instrument panel of the elevator, over to stop. "That should slow them down a little." Mac looked around for something to jam the double doors that led outside to the helipad. Across the hall he spotted a fire ax locked up in a glass case. 'That just might work.'

Mac crossed to the glass case. He grasped his left fist with his right and forced the back of his elbow into the front of the case. The thin glass broke easily and the shattered pieces clinked onto the smooth tile floor. Mac reached in and grabbed the ax and laid it on the gurney next to Jack, freeing his hands to push the bed outside.

Once outside he heard the whirring sound of the helicopter starting up. He pushed both the doors closed, then slid the ax through the handles.

The blades on the chopper started to pick up speed. Mac wheeled his friend around to the back of the medflight helicopter, where the doors were already open for Jack and his gurney.

The young Phoenix agent heard gunfire even over the increasingly loud helicopter blades. Mac looked toward the heavy doors that he had just barred with the ax handle, he saw splinters flying from both the handle and the doors.

Just as the wheels on Jack's bed found their tracts on the chopper, the hospital doors exploded outwards and the mercenaries flooded out. Mac was pushing the gurney in, at the side of Jack's bed near his legs and facing the gunmen, who were about fifty yards away. Medicine and saline sprayed all over the two agents when two of Jack's iv bags were hit by a stray bullet. Half a second later The blonde heard his best friend shout in pain and at the same moment fire lanced through his left hand causing him to yelp and stumble.

Mac didn't have time for pain or to access the damage. The agents didn't have any cover. They were sitting ducks until they were away from that rooftop. Bullets pinged off the metal frame of Jack's bed and the back door. Mac nearly stumbled forward again when the gurney became much easier to push. He looked up to see the nurse and the surgeons assistant pulling his partner the rest of the way into the chopper.

With Jack inside, Mac yelled to the pilot to take off and pulled the back doors shut.

The pilot quickly rose the helicopter off the cement helipad and shot forward as fast as the rotors allowed. The gunfire that peppered the side of the chopper became less frequent until it stopped completely.

Mac sat on the bench seat, that ran alongside the wall of the chopper, next to the nurse. He was in a daze and looked absently at the blood dripping onto the floor of the aircraft.

"Mac, you okay? Pain and worry laced into the words Jack spoke.

"Huh? Ah yeah, I'm fine." Mac stated, finally snapping out of it.

Mac looked through the hole between his thumb and forefinger in his hand.

"Uh, I know our lives are pretty messed up buddy, but that doesn't look fine to me." Jack tried for lighthearted but the concern in his eyes betrayed him.

The nurse who sat next to him dug through the med kit. She pulled out gauze and began wrapping the cloth snuggly around the oozing wound.

Jack felt the warm liquid leaking out from the gunshot wound in his right thigh. He didn't know how bad it was he just knew Mac would be pissed at him if he kept quite much longer.

"Hey Mac…" the younger agent instantly stiffened and started looking Jack over for visible injuries, when he heard the tone in his partner's voice. In his experience that tone meant Jack was injured and was afraid to tell him. "I think the bullet that got you, went through my leg first." Jack admitted shakily.

To be continued...

Nurse's translation : It's no wonder that these guys are trying to kill you, stubborn american.

"Making the decision to have a child - it is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body. "  
― **Elizabeth Stone**


	23. Chapter 23

**Yay season three is here! What did everyone think about the first episode? Poor Jack is all I can say. Anyway a big thank you to everyone that reviewed, favorited, followed, and pm'd! Also to my busy beta for taking the time to help make this story better! All remaining mistakes are mine.**

Mac saw it then, the dark red that stained the blanket, covering Jack's lower half, was more noticeable when he leaned forward for a closer look. The blanket wasn't touching the exit wound so it hadn't soaked up any of the blood that had pooled under Jack's leg.

Mac lifted the blanket to the side to expose Jack's leg wounds. The bullet appeared to have traveled right through the meat in his friends thigh. Blood flowed steadily out of the two holes.

The surgeon's assistant squeezed past the nurse and Mac to help Jack. She put a thick pad of gauze over each of the wounds, then cinched a pressure bandage snugly over the gauze, eliciting a groan from Jack.

"It's bleeding heavily, but it's not arterial. This bandage should hold until we get where we are going."

"Where are we going?" Dr. Costas asked, looking expectantly at Mac.

"I've been thinking about that, I just need to make a call first. Anybody have a phone?" Something in the back of his mind was screaming at him to pay attention, that he was missing something.

The surgeon reached into her pocket and pulled out her cell. He dialed Phoenix and listened to it ring. It was something Sinclair had said…

"Son of a bitch! That's how those merc's knew where we were." Mac had completely forgotten he was still on the phone until heard the line pick up. The young agent ended the call without a word and dialed Riley's private cell instead.

The hacker answered on the first ring. "Riley, we ran into some trouble at the hospital here and we uh… had to leave." Mac tried to explain their current situation gently. He certainly didn't want to tell her that not only had he been shot but so had Jack, again.

"What happened?" Riley asked.

"Listen Ri, I can't go into detail, but I think Sinclair had someone from The Phoenix on his payroll and now he is trying to get rid of uh, the evidence," Mac hedged.

"Are you guys okay?" Riley asked, with obvious concern.

"We will be." Mac unconsciously looked at his partner's heavily bandaged leg, then followed the bloody dressings and bruises that decorated his chest, his gaze stopped on his friend's face. It was still a shock to see Jack in that condition. There was hardly a spot on his face that wasn't marred by a bruise or cut. Mac could easily make out the hand prints around the former Deltas neck. His left eye was swollen and deep purple with a gash on his eyebrow and a large split on the same cheekbone, both had been closed with stitches. His bottom lip had also been split open from a particularly hard hit, gravity had pulled the bruising, from there, to just under his chin. There was a thin cut on his neck from when Sinclair had nearly taken Jack from him for good.

"Mac… hey buddy, you okay?" Jack questioned. His hoarse voice barely audible in the aircraft.

Mac met Jack's worried eyes and broke out of his daze.

The young agent cleared his throat. "Yeah. Uh, Riley, can you find another hospital a safe distance away and keep our location off Phoenix channels."

"Way ahead of you, Mac, Matty has contacted the Assuta hospital in Tel Aviv, they will be ready for you when you arrive, which should be in about… three hours, based on your current location and Mac… how's Jack?" Riley asked nervously.

Mac looked over to his friend again. Jack's attention was still focused on him. Mac could tell his friend was in a lot of pain and he was trying to hide it. Jack was a helluva spy and he could bluff with the best of them, but Mac could always tell when he was in pain, his eyes gave it away every time. Even with the evident pain and the additional bullet wounds, Jack seemed to be doing better. His vitals were much improved since the transfusion.

"I think he's going to be okay, Riley."

The hacker let out a sigh of relief. "You two really scared us this time," Riley admitted.

'He scared me too.' Mac silently agreed. He threw his eyes back to his partner, who looked close to sleep, each blink lasting longer than the last.

"Whoever this mole is, talked to Sinclair at least once, can you search for any calls made from the Phoenix to Turkey? Maybe they were stupid enough to use their private cell or a Phoenix line."

"You got it, Mac." Riley answered.

"Be careful, all of you. If Sinclairs informant is willing to go after us, he might go after you too."

"We will, Mac." Riley answered then ended the call. Her fingers flew over the keyboard as she hacked into the cell records of Phoenixes employees.

"What's the plan?" Dr. Costas asked. Her expression was one of discomfort. He guessed she wasn't used to being the one asking for direction. The other two women just looked scared. A pang of guilt shot through him. He had put these women and his best friend in mortal danger. Anyone of them could have been killed because he didn't think about the informant Sinclair had bought at The Phoenix and Jack had been shot, again.

"The Assuta hospital in Tel Aviv. We will be safe there." Mac answered.

"You guys aren't missionaries, are you?" The assistant asked.

Well, at least he knew what their cover ID's were now.

"I can't tell you what we do. I can only say I'm sorry for dragging all of you into this mess and for putting you in danger. I made a mistake and I will make it right, I promise." Mac assured. Dr. Costas conveyed the destination to the pilot and he nodded in acceptance, then he gently pulled the stick to the left to adjust their course.

Mac felt drained. The adrenaline from their encounter with the mercs had worn off and left him exhausted. It wasn't long before the steady whoop whoop from the helicopter blades lulled him to sleep.

Jack glanced over to where his partner sat and his heart leapt into his throat when he saw his friend unconscious with his features lax and his head resting on the chopper wall.

"Is he okay?" Jack asked worriedly.

The assistant curled two fingers around Mac's wrist to check the agents pulse. It was strong and steady. "He's fine, he's just resting. You should get some rest too," She advised.

Jack relaxed his head back onto his pillow. With his concern abated it wasn't long before he too went to sleep.

Jack drifted in and out of consciousness, his sleep disturbed by dreams of missions gone wrong, pain, and death. The older agent groaned loudly, his eyebrows pulled together in a grimace.

Mac jerked awake at the sound of his friend in pain. He leaned forward to take Jack's hand in his own, trying to offer any comfort he could.

"His rest has been fitful. I'm afraid he is going into septic shock. Those IV bags contained antibiotics, pain medicine and fluids and as you know they were destroyed by those men." The assistant spoke forlornly. "His fever is increasing as is his pain level and there's nothing we can do to help until we get to the hospital." She shook her head hopelessly.

 _Sinclair's goons hammered away on Jack's midsection. His insides throbbed and burned as they traded off pummeling him. Alex got bored with Jack and stepped over to Mac, he reared back and slammed his meaty fist into the kid's abdomen. All the air whoosed out of his partner. "No! Mac!" Jack screamed at the son of a bitch to stop his attack.  
_  
"Jack, hey buddy. It's okay, I'm right here." Mac consoled after hearing his best friend call out his name in anguish.

Brown eyes fluttered open and searched out the owner of the voice he knew so well. "Mac..." Jack's face crumpled up in misery as another wave of pain hit. His breathing quickened and a deep guttural groan was ripped from within him. Jack's left hand gripped and twisted a wad of blanket tightly. "Mac, somethin's wrong…"

"Is there anything we can do to help him?" Mac asked, pleadingly.

"Not until we get him to the hospital." The assistant responded apologetically, while she adjusted a blood pressure cuff just above his elbow.

Mac placed his bandaged hand on top of Jack's shoulder, being careful to avoid the knife wound. He was taken aback how hot his partner's skin was to the touch. Once again he felt utterly helpless.

The monitor beeped and 72/41 flashed onto the screen.

The pain caused Jack's breath to catch with every inhale, which made him feel even more breathless. "Breathe through it buddy, just breathe through it." Mac coached.

Jack's eyes locked onto his partner's. He tried to focus on blocking out the pain in his abdomen and slowing down his breathing. Just as he felt the pain start to lessen another wave crashed into him. The former Delta cried out again, too weak to hold it in.

"How much longer until we reach the hospital?" Mac shouted so he was heard above the noise of the helicopter.

"About ten to fifteen minutes," The pilot responded.

Mac frantically looked around the chopper searching for a solution. He had an overwhelming urge to get up and make something until he realized there was nothing he could fashion that would help his friend, not this time.

Jack let out another anguished cry. Guilt slammed into the young agent again. This was all his fault. If only he had remembered what Sinclair had told them about there being an informant among the higher ups at the Phoenix, when he had called Matty, then Jack wouldn't be going septic, he wouldn't have been shot again, and he wouldn't be in so much pain right now.

He hated seeing his friend like this. Moisture threatened to breach his lower lids. "I'm sorry, Jack." Mac apologized softly.

"Don't do that. This isn't on you, brother. Okay?" Jack said through clenched teeth.

Mac just shook his head, he doubted his friend could ever say anything that would make him feel any better about this.

Jack started shivering uncontrollably. After searching a few compartments, Mac found a blanket and spread it out over his friend. He could feel the heat from his partner coming through the blanket.

"Better?" Mac questioned. Jack nodded yes in return.

"Five minutes out," The pilot tossed over his shoulder.

"Almost there," Mac said more to himself than to Jack.

"Hey, stay with me," The young agent commanded, when he saw his friends eyes droop down for too long.

"Mm tired," The former Delta slurred in reply.

"I know buddy. I'll let you take a nice long nap after we get to the hospital. Okay?"

"Kay." Jack agreed.

Seconds later, they touched down on the helipad. The back doors opened and two ER nurses carefully unloaded Jack. Mac followed, at a jog, beside his partner.

To be continued...


	24. Chapter 24

**The news about George leaving the show really took the wind out of my writing sails. I'm so sorry it has taken so long to update this story, but what a gut punch that news was. When I really thought about it though, I've read some fics that are better written with loads more Mac and Jack than any episode I've seen, so the bromance will go on if only in fics. Hopefully the writers don't screw up George's exit this Friday**. **A huge thank you to my beta Lifeart for making this better even though she's sick!**

This hospital was quite a bit larger than the previous one. They were at least fifteen stories up. When the young agent caught a glimpse of the ground his stomach flip flopped. He swallowed thickly and decided to keep his gaze straight ahead away from the edges.

An automatic sliding door wooshed open and allowed the group to enter the main building. They continued down the hall toward the elevators. They stopped and waited for the largest one to arrive.

"Mac..." The young agent heard a familiar voice call his name from behind.

"Boze," Mac answered before he turned to face the familiar voice of his childhood friend. He also found Riley and Matty not far behind Bozer.

"Mac… are you okay?" Bozer asked, his voice filled with worry. His gaze traveled to Mac's shirt.

Mac looked down to see what had captured his roommates attention. That's when he saw the blood spatter, standing out like a beacon on the otherwise clean white shirt.

"Yeah, that's uh… Jack's." Mac replied shakily.

Jack cried out again, as another wave of pain crested. Riley moved around Bozer to stand next to Mac. The hacker gasped and her hand came up to cover her mouth in shock. Jack's brows were pulled together and his eyes squeezed shut as he rode out the worst of it. Tears welled up in her eyes and started to slide down her cheeks. Riley had seen Jack banged up before, but nothing like this. It broke her heart to see Jack so damaged and in so much pain.

She laid her hand on Jack's arm just above his elbow. The hacker nearly pulled her hand back from the unexpected heat coming from the former Delta. She shot a questioning look to Mac, who was still standing beside her.

"They think he's in septic shock," Mac answered the question she hadn't asked.

The elevator doors opened and the Phoenix team stayed with their injured overwatch as they pushed the gurney inside.

"Jack…" Riley spoke softly, her voice quavered slightly.

The older agent moaned, and his unfocused eyes fluttered open. The following wave of pain, that crashed into him, ripped an anguished growl from the older man. His back arched and teeth bared like a feral wolf. "No! Don't hurt em, don't hurt the kid, please." Jack begged weakly. He was trapped in another nightmare, this time about Mac. Mac wasn't sure why that knowledge had his insides twisted into a knot and the guilt he shouldered ratcheted up another level.

"Hey man, I'm okay and we made it outta there. We're safe," Mac gripped his friends shoulder and tried to pull his partner out of it. Jack visibly calmed with his partner's affirmations.

The elevator dinged, indicating they had reached their floor. When the doors opened they all rushed out into the hall.

"I'm sorry, you will have to stay out here," one of the emergency room nurses informed the team. Mac reluctantly let his partner's lax hand slide from his, then watched him disappear behind the large automatic doors.

Mac turned to face the rest of the team, who still stared at the doors Jack had gone through. They looked shaken, even Matty's expression held worry mixed with shock. She schooled her features quickly when she caught Mac's gaze.

"Are you alright?" She asked softly. Her sharp eyes roamed over his body cataloging the visible injuries, they stopped on the blood soaked bandage on his left hand. "What happened there?" Matty questioned, taking a couple steps towards him to close the distance between them. Her question snapped the other two Phoenix members out of their daze and they both looked at Mac.

He lifted the appendage in question to examine it. He had completely forgotten about the wound. "The uh, same bullet that went through Jack's leg, went through my hand too," Mac responded numbly.

"Okay Mac, while Jack is being seen to let's get you checked out too," Matty left no room for argument and immediately ushered him towards the Emergency Department.

She sat Mac down in a seat near the nurses station and went to ask for a doctor and an orthopedic surgeon. The two friends sat in the seats flanking their teammate.

Mac just stared at the floor, earning him worried glances from Riley and Bozer.

Bozer wondered if he should ask if Mac wanted to talk about anything or if now was one of those times when he just needed silence.

He finally just decided to ask, "Uh Mac… is there anything you want to talk about?"

The blonde agent remained silent, as if his friend had not spoken.

Riley and Bozer exchanged another worried look.

Bozer had seen Mac like this before, usually when he woke from a nightmare, for a few months following his return from Afghanistan. Jack was the one who could always snap him out of it. In fact, Bozer had secretly called him the Mac Whisperer during that time.

The only problem was, their Mac Whisperer was currently in surgery fighting for his life.

Bozer laid his hand on his friend's shoulder and Mac jerked away startled by the contact. "I'm sorry man, just worried about you." Bozer held up his hands in surrender.

"No Boze, I'm sorry. I'm just really tired," Mac admitted and scrubbed a hand over his bruised face.

Matty was talking on her phone when the doctor she asked for approached them. She directed him over to Mac with a stern finger and continued her conversation on her cell. The doctor frowned slightly, but didn't seem to take much offense to Matty's somewhat rude gesture.

The doctor's eyes fell on Mac as the most likely candidate for needing treatment. It wasn't that hard to single him out, the kid looked like he'd gone through a medieval battle without a shield and judging by the haunted look in his eyes, he wasn't far off. He called a nurse over to him and told her to bring the young man to his examination room and get his vitals.

"Excuse me sir, can you follow me please?" The nurse asked.

Bozer stood and offered a hand to his friend. Mac accepted and slowly got to his feet. It felt like every muscle in his body was screaming at him. Still, his own pain took a back seat, the young agent could only think about Jack.

Mac passed by their director, who was still on her cell. She wore an expression of concern that quickly transformed to a small smile when she noticed his eyes on her.

Mac followed the nurse to the radiology department for an x-ray of his hand. He had trouble manipulating the injured appendage into the different positions the radiologist required, but the tech was satisfied with the images and released him back into the care of the nurse that brought him there.

The nurse led him to an examination room. The blonde was surprised to find his team already present. Seeing them there only served in making the kid super aware of the glaring fact that his overwatch, his best friend, wasn't.

The orthopedic surgeon came in shortly after the nurse had completed taking Mac's vitals.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Levy," The doctor said and extended his hand for the young agent to shake. After the two shook hands, the doctor brought the tablet, he was carrying, up closer to his face. He tilted his head up slightly to peer through his bifocals. "I have some good news and bad news, young man. The good news is no bones were impacted, therefore none are broken, as for the bad news, I'm afraid it will take a fair amount of physical therapy before that hand is useful again."

Mac nodded, but he had no real interest in what the orthopedist had to say. His mind was consumed with worry for Jack.

"Miss Ezra, could you bring in a suture kit so we can get this young man stitched up?" Dr. Levy requested.

"Of course, Doctor." The nurse answered and left the examination room.

The nurse returned with the suture kit and prepped Mac's hand for stitching. The young Phoenix agent flinched when Dr. Levy injected the lidocaine into the angry and inflamed wound. The surgeon placed the first stitch inside the gaping hole, which pulled the two sides back together.

Movement out the corner of Mac's eye captured his attention. Matty had stepped out into the hall and was speaking with a middle aged man he recognized as one of the medical staff that had unloaded Jack from the helicopter.

Mac pushed to his feet from where he had been seated on the hospital bed, ignoring the pain and stiffness that had settled into his legs from his lack of movement.

"Young man, you still need a couple more sutures," Dr. Levy admonished.

Mac didn't look back, he strode with single minded purpose toward the Director and the doctor she was conversing with. Her grim expression ignited fear deep within his core.

"How is he?" Mac asked, his request was more like a command than a question.

"We repaired a nick in the small intestine that was leaking and causing the majority of the infection. Your friend is fighting, but-"

"His kidneys are starting to shut down Mac," Matty interrupted. Their director could be hard to read, but right now he saw pain and fear in her eyes. She cared about Jack a great deal and was worried about him too.

"I need to see him."

To be continued...


End file.
